If I Should Die
by Cambreon
Summary: Pull aside all of the children in line to become L's successor and you have one small girl that holds a special place in the detective's heart. Seemingly at a dead end, can L put a crack in the Kira case's foundation with her help? Can he keep her safe? Mostly L's p.o.v. (rated T for swearing)
1. Prologue: Strike

An idea I've had floating around since like 2008, heh. Although at this point I realize I'm not the only one who's devised to give L a daughter that takes after him, let's just hope my interpretation (that I probably wrote first) is still original ;)

_**Summary: **_Put all the children chosen to succeed L to the side and you get one little girl that holds a special place in L's heart. Can she help him finally put a crack in his toughest case to date? Can he keep her safe? L's p.o.v.

* * *

/**August 2****nd****, 2004**/

...

"We have this great facility now, yet you don't seem very into it, Ryuzaki."

…'Into it' he says…

"Not really… I'm actually kind of depressed."

"Depressed?"

He should seem so surprised…

"Yes…" The fork lingers in my mouth, and even as I continue to eat Miss Amane's cake, I can't help but suddenly notice that the fluffy texture tastes oddly bitter. "For the longest time, I thought you were Kira… I'm a little shocked that I was wrong." A pause, as I proceed to lift my cuffed arm.

"Well, I still suspect you, thus the handcuffs. But Kira could control people's actions, meaning— _(_A short pause to swallow_) __—_Kira controlled you to make me _think_ that you were Kira. Light-kun and Misa-san were both controlled by Kira… Everything fits in my mind if I assume that to be fact. The thing I don't understand is why the two of you weren't killed…"

As I explain my theory of Kira being able to pass his powers from person to person into further detail, all I earn are hard stares from my hostess and chain-mate. "—don't think there's any mistake there. You're both Kiras." When I finish, he tells me that my theory is 'interesting' and that catching Kira will be difficult. I then decide to speak my mind, and what does he do? Well…

"Come on, show some energy." Light places a hand on my shoulder.

"…Energy...? I'm just not feeling it. Why even bother..?" The gesture only causes the weight over my heart to increase.

"…"

"Trying hard to go after him just puts us in danger… don't you agree?" At the moment, despite my watchful peripheral gaze, I think nothing of it when the weight suddenly shifts on the couch we sit on as Light stands rather stiffly to my right. "I've thought I was going to die so many times already…" I add.

"Ryuzaki…"

"…—?!" Something hard connects with my cheek—

**SMACK**

—and I am sent tumbling off of the couch.

I stare back wide-eyed as I sit up. "Ouch." This is what I get for speaking my mind.

"Don't be ridiculous! Just because I'm not the true Kira… Just because you were wrong, you want to give up?!" He's shouting in my face now… "You gonna sulk like a baby?!"

I sigh, keeping a keen eye on his movements. An almost unfamiliar urge is surfacing… "I may have worded it poorly, but… I'm saying that continuing this _isn't_ going to get us anywhere good," I reply, wiping my jaw gingerly with my wrist; it stings. "So _maybe_ we should just stop."

With the fervor of a wild man, Light grabs the collar of my shirt, spouting about how we _need_ to catch Kira, and how _I_ am the one who promised to see him executed. He has the nerve to bring up all the F.B.I. agents and policemen who have died on my watch…

His words are like a catalyst to my growing anger; his fists clenched around the fabric near my neck, his voice all too loud in my ears.

"I understand that…" I reply slowly. "But whatever the reason…" The urge boils over.

**SMACK**

"Once is once!" Before I can lower my leg and stand properly, the momentum of my kick pulls me along with Light's falling body. Our bodies collapse awkwardly onto the sofa, causing it to topple over with a noisy clatter. Looking back up at him, my bangs are blocking most of my view. "It's not just that my reasoning was wrong… it's the fact that the case can't be solved as 'Light Yagami is Kira and Misa Amane is the second Kira'."

It is now that I suddenly realize how elevated my heart rate has become and continue gruffly: "So I'm a little disappointed. I'm human—that's not allowed?" The college student grunts as he comes to a stand; I copy his movements slowly.

"_No_, it's not." he replies stubbornly. "The way you talk—it's like you won't be satisfied unless I _am_ Kira!"

My eyelids lower somewhat at his heated words. He is absolutely right… and I tell him so.

He noticeably tenses—I'm ready.

His fist is planted hard into the spot between my hidden eyebrows, but I'm still standing despite how he attempts to push forward.

Light Yagami… I say I want to give up and he punches me with all he has... Is he _really_ not Kira..? No… it's still possible he passed the powers of Kira to someone else to make himself look innocent.

I huff at Light's persistence. Really, trying to use his fist to push me down… "One is _once_. I'll have you know that I'm quite strong…" I spin around and shoot my left leg up again, catching him hard in the chin as I use my hands to brace against the floor.

He suddenly yanks on the chain; I'm not able to stop him from pulling me in. My adrenaline is pumping. He raises a fist—I cock back mine. Somehow I've gotten hold of his shirt in my other hand.

**Bbbbrrriiiiing**

We both freeze in mid-motion, the teen's fingers having just slipped under my collar again; I bat his hand away and leap for the phone.

I would use the cliché _saved by the bell_… that is, if I had not fully planned on putting Soichiro Yagami's son in his place… "Yes?" the phone wouldn't be ringing unless it were important news pertaining to the Kira case.

Matsuda's voice chimes loudly over the other end. "We did it, Ryuzaki!"

My chest, previously attempting to return to its normal state of rest, inflates with suspense. "What happened?"

"Misa-Misa was number _one_ in the Eighteen-Magazine Reader poll!"

He continues on about her roll in an upcoming movie… it's all I can do to keep from throwing the phone to spite him. "…Yes… I see." He then tells me to show some more _excitement_. I reach over and let the phone fall with a clatter back onto the receiver.

"What was it?" Light questions, still sounding a tad offended.

"Nothing, just Matsuda being an idiot again."

"Well… Matsuda _is_ a little slow…"

* * *

/~/

Author's Note: So yes, this story will take place during the Yotsuba deal with Light having no memories of the Death note :) I chose to write in first person/present to give it a different feel, but the story will leave L's point of view from time to time and I'll switch to third-person past tense.


	2. Children

**Chapter 2: **A small insight into the relationship between L and his successors.

Disclaimer: I, Cambreon, do not not own Death Note, L, or any copyrighted Death note characters.

/

* * *

/**August 9****th****, 2004**/

One whole week later, I still feel the same. Halfheartedly, with nothing else to do, I scan over the notes on the glaringly bright computer screen that Light has put together. Nothing useful.

I look around me. The room is so large, a simple sneeze could echo at this point. Dull metal grays color my surroundings; large computer and television screens gaze down at me with their inanimate coldness.

It's 3:37 in the morning. Still hand-cuffed to me is the ever loyal Yagami junior, having fallen into a thick slumber in a rather plush office chair just to my right. The rest of the task force are also asleep, some having gone home, the rest having a room in our current head quarters.

Not hungry, wide awake, and bored stiff, I suddenly have the urge to push up against the desk before me and spin round in the computer chair, anything to alleviate my boredom. Hopefully Light won't wake from all the tugging on the chain…

That's before the monitor in front of me flashes white, momentarily stunning me, and the familiar gothic style 'W' appears at its center. Pressing my index finger down on the communicator button, I speak lowly as not to disturb the young man next to me. "Yes, Watari?"

"Ryuzaki, your package arrived more or less ten hours ago. But I decided it would be best to wait until everybody was sleeping." Watari is also careful to watch his voice; to this I'm thankful.

I glance over at the sleeping brunet once more before nodding to myself. "If you would please bring it up."

"Of course, Ryuzaki." The line is cut and the computer screen returns to what I was last viewing.

So here I sit, in my customary position, my chin resting on my jean-clad knees while my arms hang down to play with my two big toes.

Any moment now.

Only after two minutes does a soft knock echo through the empty room, causing me to glance right ways again, just before Watari enters. Under his arm is a medium-sized brown envelope. As he hands it to me, bidding me a good night, I see that it is sent from the orphanage. This is how it has been every year, for the last eight years.

Now there is a stack of pictures in my lap, about ten to fifteen of them, as estimated. If I had to assume, these were probably taken after the Easter-egg hunt held annually on the orphanage grounds.

Let's see… if it's 2004, then that would make Mello… almost fifteen. Young Matt would also be fourteen…

I hold up a photograph of the boys by my two thumbs and index fingers. The kids show off their Easter baskets victoriously.

I idly wonder if they consider themselves a bit too old to be partaking in events such as these, but then I remember my young heir's lust for anything chocolate (the plastic eggs usually held small chocolates within them). Matt, being his right hand, was most likely dragged along… Yes, there's a ninety-seven percent chance of that.

Placing that one under the stack, I peer at the next. Slowly, my eyes widen, and I can't help but wonder if they've become complete circles.

Flipping the picture over (I just have a feeling), I find a small note written in somewhat neat cursive.

**_I found this in an old scrapbook that Mello hid under his bed. The date on it means I was four. But this one is my favorite because everybody looks so funny! And look, even Beyond is in this one! I miss him, but I miss you even more, daddy. I wish you didn't have to burn this one when you're done._**

I glance at the corner of the picture's back and see the small numbers that read: 11/19/00

Well, with that information I'm now able to thoroughly study the picture with a less puzzled air.

It's quite the ethereal experience, seeing my young heirs all in one picture, so little… so unlike their current counterparts. Four years shouldn't have changed them all that much…

Near―back then, he always wore white turtlenecks—no exception. His eyes were much larger, in a more innocent a way. I could not tell that much from this picture alone, (he was almost completely turned away) but I remember from other photographs. Mello once joked in private with me that Near must have licked toads or gotten a hold of some illegal drug, as he was almost pupil-less.

Mello―his honey-colored hair was longer, past his shoulders. I don't remember how many people mistook him for a young woman before he finally did away with a few inches. His eyes also lack the hardness I'd encountered the last time we met. In the current situation, they are wide with shock, as his mouth hangs open, most likely in an exclamation of not being ready yet.

Next to him― … next to him…

There he is.

…There I am? No.

Beyond Birthday, no doubt. My (late) second successor: B, with those owl-ish eyes of his, and the deep bags that hung under them. With his horrible posture and his tousled hair. All of these aspects about him―all of these aspects about _me_… were almost unnerving… Were.

_Were_.

Not anymore.

I continue to take in his appearance carefully. From his oddly tinted eyes, to the downright mischievous gleam they hold, to his lanky body adorning loosely fitted clothes, ending at his sickly complexion. He is the only one actually smiling for the camera, but even so, his eyes seem to be diverted slightly to the left… or his right.

I can no longer look at this boy. Now is not the time to reminisce in the past… Now is not the time to think of him as another victim of _Kira_.

Placing my thumb under my lip, I hum a random soft tune as my eyes land on the last person in the picture.

Not another successor, no. Not quite.

Mello's free arm is held up in surprise, but his other arm is hooked under the body of a small girl, holding her against his chest as she hangs one arm around his neck for a better sense of security.

Wide cobalt eyes stare back at me with an air of hesitation, shaggy black tresses framing her infantile face. Her other arm is extending out, a petite hand holding a fistful Beyond's long white sleeve, as if trying to warn him of the camera. She wears a rather cheery cotton dress of lime-green.

Yes, my Ella. Well, only I am able call her that. My successors have quite a few nicknames for her, but usually address her by Elle, Elena… or, as B used to mock me, Eleanor (The boy had a way with finding out one's real name…).

I have always acknowledged the fact that Elena holds a remarkable resemblance to me (she is my child after all). Almost everyone at the orphanage has said that she's growing to look more and more like me with every passing year (minus my obvious eccentricities), but now that I put my mind to it, I know she could easily pass off as my twin (if not for the apparent age and gender difference). When I was her age, I looked nearly the same.

The only noticeable difference is her eyes. They contrast to mine rather violently. Elena's eyes... are like two large orbs of sun reflecting on the ocean's surface. As for mine, well, they're like... black pools of―mystery, and detachment! Well, that's what I've been told...

But, at times I cannot bear to gaze into her eyes for too long, or else a dull pain threatens to resurface over my heart. You see, she has her mother's eyes: Alenka's eyes. I won't get into a long story now, because I fear Light may wake up at any moment, and find me here, with these pictures.

I will just say that… (and excuse me if I do sound cliché) even if we were terribly young and naïve, I don't regret anything that happened. She helped me truly realize the depth behind the phrase "my one and only"...

And as with my late successor, B, I will not trouble my mind with memories, or ponder on what could have or have not been.

As those thoughts drift away, an idea suddenly crashes over my mind like some severe sugar overdose (They're not as bad as people think) and I place my fingertips over my parted lips as my eyes widen, the mechanics of my brain working twice as fast as before.

I still suspect Light Yagami as Kira, and Misa Amane as the second Kira. But, I should try something more interesting; maybe use some 'scare' tactics. If Kira and the second Kira had 'shinigamis' as mentioned in the video, I could possibly use this supernatural twist to my advantage.

I'm quite capable of playing mind games.

My Ella, she gives the impression of being twin material, as I have stated before. If I have her brought here, she could pose as some sort of apparition, perhaps...?

…_No_. What am I thinking? Am I so desperate as to put my own child in the line of fire? What is the percentage of something like that working, anyway?

Suddenly feeling disgusted with myself, I slump my head into my lap, the pictures fogging up as I breathe slowly onto them.

Apparently, I must have been in this position for quite some time, because before I can react to the sound of chains rattling, a hand is shaking my shoulder, a voice calling out my alias softly.

"Are you awake, Ryuzaki?"

I cross my arms over my chest, pulling the pictures and envelope into their protective hold, before slowly rising to meet the inquisitive gaze of Light. "I have been awake for the past—" I pause to examine the clock on the computer screen "…sixty seven hours"

I can see Light resist the urge to roll his eyes. "Of course, Ryuzaki." He then reaches out to my face.

I instinctively shrink back, causing the teen to pause and stare as if I've done something completely stupid. He then quickly snatches something away from my face, the object having been stuck to my forehead. How that is possible, I'm not sure.

It suddenly hits me what Light is examining, and I can't help but feel a foreign emotion surfacing.

Panic.

But, I hide it professionally.

"Who is this, Ryuzaki?" He turns the photo for me to see. It is another (current) one, just of Elena, that I haven't gotten to see yet.

Her hair reaches her shoulders now, her sun dress blows in the wind as she swings back and forth on the swing set, and I can't help but feel sick when I look at the dazzling blue orbs under those ebony bangs. It's almost as if they are calling out to me from the grasp of the killer's hands.

"… That would be my twin, Light-kun…"

Light stares at me, obviously seeing through the shallow lie. "Ryuzaki, this is a child. And this photograph seems fairly new."

I shake my head slowly, bits of shadowy locks brushing the bridge of my nose as I begin biting my right thumbnail. "It was digitally enhanced. And she has been dead for years. I handled her case some time ago and brought her killer to justice."

A quick save, but… No, it seems Light has taken the bait (but who knows what's going through his head at the moment).

His eyes soften as he returns his gaze back to the picture. "I'm sorry for your loss…"

"Are you really...? You've never even had the chance of meeting her." The emotionally sterilized words escape my lips before I can think twice.

Light turns to stare at me incredulously. "Ryuzaki… that doesn't mea—"

He stops short as I stand, hunched, with the rest of the photos still in my grasp.

"Come now, Light-kun. We could both use some sleep." This is a partial lie, because he knows that I sometimes stay up and stare at his sleeping form.

And so the boy grudgingly follows, seeing as how the chain is tugging him along.

…

I would be drawing too much attention to myself if I whipped out a lighter and started burning these pictures, so instead I tuck them into the pocket of my boxer shorts (I doubt Light would want to stick his hands down my jeans first if he tried to do anything with them).

For a while I pretend to sleep, waiting for Light to succumb to his exhaustion first. When I can hear that his breathing has deepened and evened out, I roll onto my side and reach over the bed we are forced to share, opening my personal laptop that rests on the floor.

_…she could pose to be some sort of apparition, perhaps..?_

"_It was digitally enhanced. And she has been dead for years."_

_"I'm sorry for your loss…"_

No… I shouldn't be thinking about that anymore, but...

As I open up a private chat line to Watari, I silently wonder what kind of hell has been raised in my old orphanage earlier in the day.

* * *

**Author's Note**: If you have the Death Note profile book/ volume 13 then maybe you've caught on that yes, I made L a teen parent. Next chapter is about the Wammy House kids.


	3. Elle-M-N

**Chapter 3**: What was at first a regular day at the Wammy House.

At the end of the chapter I'm going to write some thoughts on L as a "single" parent.

* * *

/**Earlier in the day**/

**BAM!**

The sharp eyes of a newly agitated blond teen swiveled over to location of the harassing noise; he was ready to go off on whoever dared to slam his door when he noticed just whom the intruder was. Instead, he continued to swirl the melting chunk of milk chocolate in his mouth.

"Mello, you took _all_ my chocolate!" After noticing all of the chocolate missing from her candy stash , Elena stalked up to Mello, serving her big-brother figure a swift swat on the leg accompanied by a scowl.

This only issued a hard glare from the young teen. "Watch who you're yelling at, jit!" he then paused, smirking down at the raven-haired child of his idol. "Besides, growing children don't need junk food like this—" he finished his statement with a loud snap from the candy bar as he took a bite.

"You—_bloody_ arse!" the anger faded, and was replaced by bitter defeat. "You fit into that category too…" The seven year-old trailed off, pouting.

Mello's face became deadly serious, to such a point that he noticed the small child fidget under his gaze. "Watch your language, young lady. What would L think if he knew you were swearing like this?" He had to fight the urge not to laugh when she saw the expression of fear cover her face.

It was just one of those days where he found himself some amusement in teasing "the lower-case L", as he had called her on occasion. In all truth, Mello couldn't have given a rat's ass if the child had taken up cursing (and he knew L probably wouldn't either)… as long as the words weren't directed at him.

Mello also knew that Elena was not one to use profanity, let alone act so hostile. It seemed that only in his presence did she let the obscene words slip. But then again, he would curse himself out too (no matter what age he was) if he had to put up with all the crap he gave her.

Elena crawled onto his bed and stared hard at him, her hand held out impatiently.

Mello glanced over, and, seeing her attempt at an angry face, raised an eyebrow as if to ask 'Are you for real?' He then planted a hand firmly on the center of her chest and gave a hard push, snickering as she clumsily fell back.

As she scrambled to get upright on the lumpy mattress, having kept tripping on her skirt, Mello stood and watched. Just as Elena came to a stand, the blonde lifted up the mattress, causing her to fall back again with a surprised yelp.

He would have mocked her, he would have kept having his brotherly fun and made up for it later, but Mello did not count on Elena hitting her head on the wall during her descent.

"Oh, shit…" The teen's face paled visibly.

"Ouch, ouch, _OUCH!_" The girl clutched the back of her head with her petite hands as she shut her eyes tight.

Panic suddenly struck Mello as her face began to turn red and small whimpers escaped from her mouth. He knew what would happen next: Something he did not want to stick around for. So, in his moment of desperation, Mello quickly sucked up his pride and acted.

Moving fast, he slung the girl over his shoulder, ignoring her loud complaints as he high tailed it to the recreational room. He also ignored the odd stares he earned from the random inhabitants in the hallways.

…

The playroom was uncharacteristically quite for a Saturday. That was how Near preferred it. He could hear the nearby grandfather clock ticking dutifully in the background, and the birds singing faintly from beyond the room's walls. But, when the doors swung open accompanied by a wailing child (protesting madly as she hung practically upside-down) and a seemingly horror-stricken teenager, Near knew his peace and quiet would soon end.

"HERE! She's _all_ yours!" After practically dropping Elena in his competition's lap, Mello retreated rather hastily, not being a fan of the albino-like boy in the first place.

Elena immediately righted herself, knowing the older boy's dislike for close proximity. She sniffled quietly, rubbing the unshed tears from her eyes. "I wasn't crying. It just hurt really badly… I'm not _five_ anymore."

Near sighed, his eyes narrowed in annoyance as he fixed the better half of the puzzle that was wrecked when Mello had placed her in front of him. "Mello was rough-housing again. You'd think he would have some common sense, considering your asthma." He stated more than asked, no feeling tainting his voice.

Elena nodded, knowing he could see her with his peripheral vision. She studied him silently, nibbling on her fingernails.

Near was fascinating to L's daughter. Because he preferred to be on the floor or in shelled up positions, plus his affinity for toys, she often forgot that Near was a big kid. But as soon as he opened his mouth, the thirteen-year old successor suddenly seemed… old.

Old, as in, someone L's age, or Roger's age. To a seven-year old it was mostly the same. But Near had a certain air about him... the way he sat, the way he looked at people, and how smart he was…

"You remind me of him."

Near looked up from his puzzle, already knowing the topic of the conversation.

"You act like him, you sit like him. You even have similar eyes"

The younger heir allowed an eerie smile to take his lips, while one hand went up to twirl his fair curls. "Even so, L is not _my_ father."

…

It was much later into the night when young Elena was awoken by the soft knocking on her door.

Pushing the thick blanket away from her body, she slid off of the twin-sized bed and stumbled over to the door, trying not to step too loudly for her sleeping roommates. She was surprised to see Near waiting on the other side.

His gaze was narrowed, not in an angry fashion, but in a way that led Elena to believe that he had just been awoken as well. "Roger has requested our presence." He kept his explanation short.

…

"I'm going… to Japan?"

Mello's frown deepened; the teen forced himself to avert his gaze from Elena as he heard the squeak in her voice. Anyone who hadn't known better would have mistaken it for hesitation, but Mello saw the look on her face that blatantly betrayed her voice.

Elena was elated.

Roger nodded grimly (or was he just tired, too?), his wrinkled hands folded over the cherry wood desk he sat behind. "Yes, L has requested that you come to live with him until further notice."

Elena was at a loss for words. She had been told that she was not allowed to live with her father because of his dangerous job. So now, in supposedly his hardest case, he wanted her attendance?

Mello scowled at the older man, his just-out-of-bed appearance making him seem somewhat more intimidating than usual. 'What the hell is L thinking? Why is he dragging her out there, where this Kira guy is?' he mused, suddenly feeling infuriated. He knew never to question L, but throwing his own kid into the mix was making Mello rethink L's sanity.

Near, who had been sitting off to the side, index finger wrapped in his hair, finally decided to speak up. "It's quite obvious that L has a plan that involves you, Elena. I'm interested in his intentions now… I am also a little disappointed that we can't find out just yet…"

"Or _maybe_ he just misses _HIS DAUGHTER!_" Mello shouted, sending the younger orphan an indignant glare. Suddenly feeling disgusted from being so close to Near, Mello made his way to the door.

Elena frowned at his outburst, not wanting him to leave.

But he paused as his hand reached the doorknob. "So I guess you'll be leaving first thing in the morning, then." Turning slightly, Mello's scowl lightened just a bit. "Keep yourself out of trouble, Elle." He then made his way back to his room, without another word or the smallest glance. Deep down, Mello knew there was some truth in his rival's words.

Elena pouted at Mello's leave; he was always one to take news hard. "Do I have to start packing now, Roger?" she asked tugging at part of her nightie.

Roger nodded slowly, his tiredness showing almost too clearly. "You are all dismissed."

So Elena made her exit, hardly in a rush, Near following at his own practical pace.

…

Roger had previously readied her bags by the front door, so all she had was fifteen minutes left before they were to leave for the airport.

Elena soon found herself in front of a door in the boy's wing.

Without knocking (as per usual), she let herself in to be met by the harsh glare of Mello and half glance of his roommate (and best friend), Matt.

Mello eased himself back into a laying position on his bed, re-opening the textbook that was resting on his stomach. "What's the lower-case L doing here? Doesn't she have a plane to catch?" he questioned, not making eye contact. The next thing Mello knew as he glanced down was that there was a petite pair of arms wrapped around his chest, accompanied by a small pair of lips pressing against his cheek.

Elena stood back, smiling wide at the bewildered teen, and patted his shoulder as if it were a small animal's head. "I'll miss you, Mello. Will you miss me too?" she asked with a small jump, her wide eyes shining with hope.

Matt, who had previously paused the game on his Gameboy Color, shook his head as two auburn eyebrows rose. "Man, Mello, I knew all the ladies were on your tail, but who knew you'd be a cradle robber?"

Mello sat up sharply at his friend's words, a fierce look on his face. "Matt, do yourself a favor and go fuck yourself!" It wasn't the first time his friend had suggested something like that.

Elena merely blinked at the obscene language, not quite sure what the word 'fuck' actually meant (besides it being a naughty one).

Mello finally caught her expectant gaze and coughed awkwardly. "Uh… yeah. Of course I'll miss you, kid." He finished, placing his much larger hand on top of her head, giving it a small ruffle.

Elena beamed up at Mello, her child-like innocence almost making him narrow his eyes in suspicion (she'd been known to get her way with him many times before). "I love you!"

And there it was.

Mello looked away, the expression on his face similar to a person tasting their friend's cooking and not wanting to tell them it tasted like shit; uncomfortable. "Yeah, yeah," he grumbled. "Love you too…"

Matt sighed, back to playing his game. "How does he do it?" he murmured to himself, but still loud enough for the room's other occupants to hear.

Mello proceeded to curse his friend under his breath as Elena made her way over to the gamer. "Bye-bye, Matt. I'll miss you too." She placed a soft kiss on his cheek as well, earning a small laugh.

"Yeah, see you around, Elle."

As Elena exited his room, Mello's face became a hard mask of concealment.

…

"Why are you here, of all places? You're to be on a plane in less than two hours." Near inquired while paused in mid motion, Optimus Prime in one raised hand, Michaelangelo in the other as he sat on his flannel-clad knees.

Elena smiled feebly down at the older boy. "To say goodbye, of course." She then squatted to his level, picking up a random puzzle piece that belonged to the large, advanced set before him.

The two never spent all that much time together, but Elena had always been drawn to Near, for the similar mannerisms he shared with her father, just as she'd been drawn to Beyond…

Near allowed a thin eyebrow to rise, ever so slightly. "Goodbye."

Again, Elena blinked, albeit slower this time. "You're so brief… Oh well. When daddy finds his bad guy, you'll be the first to know all about it." She finished with a brilliant smile, placing the puzzle piece in its correct spot.

* * *

**Notes on L as a father**: Alright, so recently I had a conversation with my bff about the whole dynamic of L having a child. I wrote the first 5 chapters of this story (now broken into 7) when I was like 15 so I didn't really put any thought into things. Back then I pictured L having a brief "Juno"-like romance (cute but awkward) and ending up being a teen daddy.

The other night me and my friend were talking about things like custody (after the hilarious convo about how awkward it would be to have sex with L). I agreed that with L being dedicated to his work, he would have given Wammy House custody of his daughter, but still have the authority within the organization to pull her out if he wanted and not have to worry (that much) about the system.

L genuinely loves his daughter, and makes it a point to visit the orphanage at least once a year (aside from phone calls). But I had to get around Near's cannon confession that he had never met L in person (Death Note manga special "3 yrs later") and Mello saying in the BB novel that he (mello) _had_ met L. So for this story L visits and pretty much stays holed up to himself, or arrives in the middle of the night. Also he wouldn't have visited since like... 2002 or so (going by the **manga** years). We don't really know when Near or any of the kids arrive at Wammy house so I can use that to my advantage.


	4. Shameless

**Chapter 4:** In which L arranges for Light's first sighting of his "deceased twin".

/

* * *

/**August 10****th****, 2004**/

"Yagami-kun."

A pause.

"_Yagami-kun_."

Light swats the poking finger away from his shoulder, barely concealing his irritability. "Ryuzaki, what _is_ it?"

I hunch over a little more so my chin rests on my knees and my arms wrap loosely around them. "I've noticed Light-kun hasn't been outside in days."

The teen breaks in his typing, sending a short glance my way. "What are you trying to get at, Ryuzaki?" He's in no mood for games (besides, he is usually the one to suggest breaks).

One corner of my mouth pulls upward slightly. "We should take a recess."

…

My thumb glides over the padded numbers, rivaling that of a sixteen-year old girl texting her boyfriend.

_Are you ready?_ Send.

A few moments later I receive the answer—

_Yep_.

So… I've decided to go ahead with my plan… as ridiculous as it may be.

"Is any of this really necessary?"

I spare a glimpse at Light as I take a leisurely lick of my triple-scoop ice cream cone, whilst secretly tucking my cell phone into my side pocket.

"Ryuzaki, we could be working on the case right n—"

"You haven't touched your smoothie yet, Light-kun. It might melt at this rate."

My statement only earns a tired sigh from Light, who rubs his forehead in a soothing motion.

I suppose my recent actions have frustrated the young man? Well, this is all part of the "grand scheme", Light…

The setting is what one would call… serene, perhaps? The fields are green and sky cloudless. Random trees and benches dot the landscaping, along with the people enjoying the park on this autumn day. Children are at play, their parents keeping a watchful eye on them at all times. There's even a cool breeze.

"Light-kun, what time is it?"

Light raises his left arm, pushing back his striped sleeve to inspect his rather costly, silver wristwatch. "It's a quarter after four, Ryuzaki. Why?" he proceeds to sip his raspberry smoothie.

I cock my head ever so slightly to the side.

Ah, if only questioning were so simple.

"Just curious, I guess." I reply with a shrug, touching my index finger to my bottom lip.

It's almost time.

…There's chocolate dripping down my hands, better take care of that.

I notice Light keeps glancing my way, an incredulous look upon his face. Obviously he has never seen someone lick ice cream off his or her hands before.

…!

And there she is… Right on time, Watari.

I look beyond my Ella's wandering figure, spotting the familiar black car of Watari's parked in the distance. It wouldn't seem suspicious since he had stated that he was going to retrieve some supplies before returning to wait for us at the park.

As by Watari's instruction, Elena is to wander around the vicinity, then make sure to catch Light's attention. Let us hope she can be convincing…

I must restrain myself from making eye contact; after all, I can't see what isn't there… So instead I turn to Light, who is busying himself with cloud gazing… This might take a little longer than originally planned... I found as of lately that Light's overall attitude has changed somewhat. He tends to space out from time to time, and whenever the subject of him being Kira arises, well… he doesn't take it with as much stride as he used to.

His conscience is most likely weighing on him… You can't keep this up forever, Light… I'll be there to pick you up when you fall, but only with a pair of handcuffs as your rights are read off.

I lap lazily at the chocolate-strawberry-banana cone, revolving it slowly with my hand. The three flavors swirled together on my tongue are having a field day with my taste buds.

I have to somehow get this young man to believe that he is being haunted because he "_might_ have" (as he explained before confinement) been Kira and therefore (was) is a threat to my life. But I know he's lying; he _is_ Kira. My little apparition will serve as a way to get some information out of him… to mess with his mind until he's nothing but a paranoid mess of a man. The plan in itself is so ludicrous, and half-baked. Would the 'World's Greatest Detective' ever consider something this shallow? Of course not—totally unlike anything someone as _professional_ as myself would devise.

I am fairly confident in my plan. Even if it backfires…

I frown, the small gesture going unnoticed behind the ice cream.

If Kira kills my daughter it will automatically incriminate Light. After all, Kira has no business killing an innocent child, one he should have no information or knowledge of… unless he had met her and knew she was working for me... Light Yagami... But… you can't kill a ghost. You can't kill without knowing a name.

_Sigh_… explain that to my churning stomach.

"Ryuzaki, look over there." Light practically whispers, bumping his knee into my leg to gain my attention.

I take a sweeping gaze of our surroundings, purposely ignoring Elena as she plays with some lizards on a near-bye tree.

"Look at _what_, Light-kun?" I reply in a hushed tone, my eyes slightly widening for affect. I try not to be too dramatic… I may seem out of character to the perceptive teen.

Light glances at me before looking back to Elena, who is staring directly at him from beneath the shade of the tree. "That little girl over there, she looks a lot like the one I saw… in that picture… Don't tell me I'm seeing dead people now, _Ryuzaki_." He emphasizes my name, causing me to widen my eyes in a mock-innocence.

"You've obviously been working too hard, Light-kun. I see no such thing." I bring my treat up to my face and take a small bite out of the waffle-cone bottom, so I am able to slurp out the remaining ice cream.

Light leans back a bit and chuckles softly. "Ryuzaki, you don't give me enough credit... Knowing you, and I think I do, you've probably formulated some plan involving that kid. It's all too coincidental..." He closes his eyes momentarily, a small smile on his face.

Good, he's recognized her and is suspicious of my intentions. Right on target, Light.

"Ligh… wha ah you talken abou?" I ask before swallowing. "There are at least a dozen young girls in this park with dark hair, matching the age of my late sister's age appearance… The _dead_ do not walk." I add the last part a bit gloomily to make myself more believable.

"Ryuzaki…" he pauses, turning to face me fully "No, _L_… What do you take me for?"

I feel slightly uncomfortable now; if not for how close he's leaned in, then for the look of surfacing desperation in his eyes.

"You're obviously using that little girl as a part of this investigation! Why else would you be _lying_ right now?" his tone is harsh, but still hushed as not attract unwanted attention. "But you can't, because I'm _not_ Kira! And bringing a small child into this case to prove me guilty is low, even for _you_." As he finishes this statement, it is all I can do to keep a straight face.

Luckily, a small red ball rolls our way, catching Light's attention, who finally backs away. Having more room to myself allows me some peace of mind…

"Well, well, look who it is, Ryuzaki." Light comments rather smugly before putting on a friendly smile.

I look out before us again, as Elena skips up to our bench. "I still don't see this person Light-kun is describing."

Elena stops in front of Light and bends over to pick up the crimson toy.

The brunet leans forward so his elbows rest on his knees, his half-finished smoothie long forgotten. "Hello there, I'm Light. What's your name?" he asks in the most innocent tone he can muster, which ends up sounding quite ridiculous to my ears (although I'm sure any female would readily contradict me). Something in the back of my mind instantly compares him to that of a child predator.

Elena stands back up with the red toy held placidly in both hands, offering a tiny smile to the teen suspect. "I know who you are." She replies perfectly in Japanese before pausing and turning slightly away from us. In this single moment I take care to study my daughter out of the corner of my eye as I stare at Light.

She's grown somewhat in the last year and a half I previously saw her. But, I have the feeling that she will ultimately be as petite as Alen— …her mother was. Her hair—my hair that I've bestowed upon her through the workings of biology, falls down just to meet her shoulders in a mixture of waves and shag. Her garments are somewhat girl scout-esque.

Light's smile falters somewhat at her curt tone, but he laughs softly. "Aren't you a little cold in this weather?" He questions, eyeing the short sleeved dress. "The temperatures are starting to change."

Elena pivots her feet to turn a bit more away. "I don't feel a thing..." she answers quietly.

I take this moment to intervene. "Yagami-kun… who are you talking to?" I ask hesitantly, raising an index finger in question.

Light disregards me while staring blankly at Elena.

She then turns to face Light fully and giggles in good nature. "I am Elle." She bows her head slightly in an attempt of politeness, but her grin gives away her apparent mocking.

Light frowns, an eyebrow cocking in bewilderment.

'I am Elle'

Well, that's not quite what I was expecting… but…

I make a mental note to myself: Tactics, yet simple, turn out effective. 'I am Elle' can ultimately be interpreted in two ways: _I am L_, or _I am Elle_; Light probably won't suspect the latter first.

Light straightens up, smiling awkwardly at Elena. "Look, you don't have to go along with Ryuzaki's idea. I'm not Kira and I don't want Ryuzaki or L dead. I want to help him catch the _real_ Kira." He holds one hand out. "So what's your real name?" he smiles charmingly.

I narrow my eyes slightly at the young man's choice of words. A daring move, yes… This can't be cheer stupidity on his part. He's obviously using reverse psychology, like I am.

Would L ever use such juvenile tactics to find his criminal?

Would Kira be so _bold_ as to flat out ask her for her true name?

I place my hand on Light's shoulder. "Light-kun. I suggest you get some rest. You're seeing and hearing things that aren't there..."

At this moment I observe Elena swiftly take advantage of the distraction. As Light faces me (with an all but pleasant stare) she skips off to a nearby playground, becoming one with the atmosphere of children and the jungle gym. Light is completely unaware… it's almost comical.

"Ryuzaki, quit the act. This is ridiculous! You're around me at all hours off the day; you don't even sleep! Is some little girl supposed to pull out some incriminating evidence against me that you can't? Is _that_ what you think?" he hissed, sounding incredulous near the end.

I cock my head at the teen, my owlish gaze penetrating him. "I think we should return to headquarters."

I then stand slowly, flexing my stiff legs and back, before slumping back into my usual stance (I ignore Light as he comments on Elena's "great disappearing act"). Glancing to my left I see him also standing, his arms folded over his chest in an uptight manner, his eyes set in a steely glare. He really should stand in front of a mirror when he's doing such things, to see how _absolutely_ queer he appears.

As we walk towards the sidewalk, I ignore Light again as he begins 'riding me' (I believe that's the phrase) about how I was trying to get out of the situation, and that I was being shallow.

Just wait, Light Yagami…

* * *

/

**Author's Note**: in case anyone is confused, Light is supposedly going to be haunted by a little girl. I'll incorporate other things into the haunting as well.


	5. L, the World's Greatest Father

**Chapter 5: **In Which L is a father and human being with emotions.

*disclaimer to Death Note and all its copyrighted characters* Except for my Elena (and her mommy).

* * *

**/August 11****th****, 2004/**

A sort of dawning feeling of _deja vu_ hits me as I sit in my chair, the sound of Light's steady rhythm of fingers on keys filling the room. I'm not really… 'into it' at all. My main suspect has been sitting here this whole time. All I can do, really, is watch. Watch his every movement; analyze every uttered word or huff of annoyance.

If he does find some lead that holds merit to look into, that raises my earlier theory of Kira passing his powers to different individuals after controlling them. But I can't seem to find the loophole in how or why they manage to live…

"…Ryuzaki, you've been awfully quiet since yesterday… after the park?"

And here I was in belief that I would be doing the questioning.

"I've noticed, Yagami-kun."

Light glances my way momentarily before sighing. "Right… You know, I kind of expected to see a small shadow following me around after that. Have you reconsidered― gained any common sense back?" His words, yet (hardly) insulting, hold a pleasant tone accompanied by a sugary-sweet smile that almost makes me want to comment on his smugness.

I stare him dead in the eyes before replying, "It's understandable that you've been experiencing hallucinations, Light-kun. You've been getting merely a few hours of sleep each night, and the numbers are dwindling every day. It's not a very healthy thing, you know… You should be at your best if you _want_ to catch Kira…"

Light's smile minimizes into a small smirk. "You have a way with convincing people, Ryuzaki. Don't worry about me, though. I know exactly what's going on." He frowns at the last said part.

Yes, you know exactly what's going on…_very_ impressive. It's just a matter of time before you start doubting yourself.

"What I don't get is why you lied about that picture."

"You're making no sense." I reply in a clipped tone.

Light sends me a short glance, having heard my change in tone. I should have been a bit more careful…

"The little girl," he continues, "The one in the picture, you said she was a twin that had passed. That made sense, but unless you've got _Gigantism_ and are under the age of _ten_, Ryuzaki, then there's no way you can be twins, not if I saw her—talked to her, while she was _very_ much alive."

I nibble softly on my left thumb. "Yes, well, you must have been talking to a ghost, I'm afraid." I then lean over the arm of my chair, closer to Light, my eyes open to their full extent. "What was she like?"

Light stares back with a rather narrow gaze, ignoring my comments. "So if she's not your twin, what could she be? Just some little girl you picked off the streets? No, you have a picture of her… more than one, if I had to guess. And she looks so much like you, Ryuzaki…" he trails off for a moment. "Could she be just a very young little sister… or maybe, the man I've come to know is actually familiar with fatherhood...?" this time he smiles, not a smug or fake way, but in a way that says 'I'm happy for you'.

Well, I'm not particularly surprised. This conclusion is only natural since he still doesn't believe the ghost story. Now to play my part.

"You're absolutely right, Light-kun." I reply, earning a pat on the back. "But…"

Light quirks a brown eyebrow.

"I wasn't lying when I said she'd passed away." At this, Light laughs quietly, thoroughly seeing through my lie. "About a year ago, my daughter was the victim of a rather violent murderer… Not that it concerns you, Light-kun." I lazily point a finger at him.

"Ryuzaki, are we going to keep playing this game?"

I blink slowly in reply.

"… Fine." All signs of humor have vanished from the young man's face. "I don't need to tell you that you're wasting your time."

I sigh at his words, not needing to fake my weariness. Just you wait, Light. By next week you won't be so sure of yourself.

… **11:35 PM**

"Ryuzaki, I'm afraid we have an emergency that needs solely your attention."

I snap my head up, having heard the strained tone in Watari's voice, instantly holding down the communication button. "What is it, Watari?" I inquire, my mind racing. Was it Kira? Or maybe he stumbled across something. What if—

"You're going to have to un-cuff yourself from Light for this one, Ryuzaki."

My lower eyelids rise, confusion lightly etched on my face.

* * *

Matsuda shifted uncomfortably in his seat next to a bound and gagged Light, as the rest of his coworkers continued working in a stiff silence.

"So, um… whatever Ryuzaki had to do must have been pretty important for him to have to tie you up."

Light sighed, his eyes closing momentarily (not that Matsuda could tell). He sat quietly, having duct tape over his mouth, a black cloth tied around his eyes, hands cuffed in his lap, and legs bound. Apparently, if he really _were _Kira, he would have a difficult time doing anything in this state.

The raven-haired, rookie detective sent a glance towards Yagami senior, and frowned. He knew his chief was hiding how he really felt about this.

Matsuda then scratched the side of his head, as he continued to 'monitor' Light. "What do you think he went to do? …Light?" he asked tentatively, not quite sure if the lowering of the brunet's eyebrows meant he was being glared at.

* * *

… **11:43PM**

I make my way swiftly down the long corridors to where Watari is stationed, knocking once before entering. The sight somewhat worries me, but I don't know what's happened yet, so I cannot assume.

Elena is seated in a chair that has been moved just beside an open window. Small wisps of wind blow through the midnight air, causing her hair to sway gently around her paler than usual face. She is bent so that her elbows rest on her knees, but she straightens and smiles weakly as I approach. All the lights are off, which is good, since the curtains are drawn all the way back.

"A rather abrupt asthma attack, L. She should be fine now." Watari informs me softly, as I walk past his solemn figure.

I make my way up to the child a bit uncertainly, as if _I've_ done something wrong. "Ell― … Ella?" I kneel down in front of her, placing my hand on her head.

I've found over the years... that my little girl has this way of turning me into a different man sometimes...

Watari, knowing I can handle things from here on out, makes himself scarce.

"I'm okay, daddy." She nods her head, her shaggy hair moving again in the small breeze from outside. "I had my inhaler. But Mr. Wammy–I mean… _Watari_ couldn't find it at first; that's when it got bad."

I almost move to close the window, but think better of it when I remember that fresh air is something she needs right now. Instead, I release a heavy sigh and lean forward until my head rests in her lap. "Elena, what were you doing? What brought on an attack?"

There is a moment of silence before she finally speaks up. "Um…"

I raise my head to stare into my daughter's timid eyes, letting her know I mean business.

"I was jumping on Mr. Watari's bed." She admits shyly.

I heave another heavy sigh. "Ella… I _can't_ leave the others for something like this again, it will look suspicious."

I'll have to ask Watari to order some toys or something…

She sniffles a bit, fumbling with her hands. "I'm sorry. I promise I won't anymore… Please don't be mad at me, daddy?"

My eyes soften when I notice something under her eyes shine in the dim lighting. "Why are you crying, Ella?" I ask, my voice being laced with confusion.

My daughter rubs her eyes, whimpering softly as I push her bangs back. "Mello's right, I _am_ a crybaby…"

Now, in all my years of being a father (a rather small amount of them…) I've only been put in this situation a handful of times, so I must not make myself seem novice to her. "Elena, it's okay to cry when you're… upset. If you never cried, you wouldn't be human." I pat her head lightly. "Now cheer up, I know this was just an accident that won't happen again."

She ignores the latter of my speech. "But _you've_ never cried…"

My eyelids droop slightly as I reply dully, "That's not true." I wipe the tears from under her shining eyes with a pinky finger. "I cried… when my mother passed…a lot, and when your mother died, too."

Elena straightens up a bit at the mention of her mother and grandmother. "Daddy, tell me about mum and gram, _please_?"

Well now, that was a fast recovery…

Sighing softly, I tip my head up a bit, and then nod in agreement. "Let's get you to bed first; you have to gain some energy back before your next job."

I notice she's already in her night cloths (one of my old white sweaters I left behind at the orphanage), so no tedious help in changing is required of me… I think she's old enough to do that without my assistance anyway.

After Elena's all tucked in, I remove the pillow next to her and sit in its place, scooting back so my rear touches the headboard. "Where shall I begin?"

Despite being snugly tucked in, Elena sits up and leans against my side. "What was your mum like, daddy?"

For the first time in a while I sit up straight, so my head also rests on the headboard. "My mother…" I smile dryly.

"Did she like The Beatles?" As a young girl, she has connected the Beatles with the era of the 'flower children'. Therefore, all people alive during the sixties must have listened to them.

But what Elena doesn't know is that although my mother was alive during the sixties, she hadn't been quite old enough to be a part of that generation of music... not that I feel like explaining that.

"Yes, she listened to The Beatles. But I'm saying that… she was a…" I trail off, not wanting to get into the part about drugs and groupies. "Well, my mother was quite the party girl. But… that was in her younger days. Around the time of my birth, she had settled down quite a bit. Being a single mother, she had to work quite hard to care for me." I cannot believe I just fed her that string of lies. I open my mouth to continue, but close it again, finding that I may just let loose some rather colorful words.

My mother… What am I supposed to tell my seven-year old daughter? _Your grandmother was a drug addict. She got pregnant at the age of fifteen. She brought home a different man every week. She only took care of me to the point that I was able to function, because she felt it out of obligation. Like I was some sick plant she barely had time to tend to. _This isn't something I wish to admit to Elena; not until she's at least eleven...

"Daddy, you're glaring."

My eyes slowly widen as I turn to face Elena, voice coming out whispery as if I've just been told something that I can't quite get over. "Pardon?"

"Why?" she questions, wrapping her sweater-clad arms around one of my bent knees.

I open my mouth again, having to force my thoughts into words. "Ah… No, I just can't remember too much about her. I was younger than you when she passed, remember?"

Elena purses her lips as she scrutinizes my tense demeanor. Finally, she inquires, "What was her name, again? I forgot."

I lift a hand up to scratch my hairless chin. "Viola… Anne… Lawliet." I reply, taking care to pronounce her full name. It's partially true that I don't remember much about my own mother (she was never around much as it was), but not to the extent that I am not able to describe her…

Her long, black locks that she kept teased into whatever the current fashion was; or her favorite _violet, _silky ribbon she wore around it. Her young, attractive body that had every man crawling on hands and knees. Drunks, druggies, wife-beaters… She could have bettered her life—_my _life by surrounding herself with more positive people, but she succumbed to a life of sex and drugs.

I also remember her porcelain face, motionless, as glassy eyes stared up at me from the itchy, old sofa—a needle in hand. She'd overdosed.

My head had leaned to the side a bit in my reverie, so I straighten it.

Yes, I had shed tears when Viola died, but not over the loss of a mother. Not the kind of woman who cares for, and loves you with every fiber of her being. The kind of woman who would sooner sell their soul to the devil than see any pain inflicted upon you. No, I cried for the loss of the only human contact I had left in the world; any chance I might have had at surviving. Sheer luck would have it that I'd be discovered soon after.

I gaze across the large room until my sight rests on the back of the kind, elderly Englishman that took me in. What would I do if he ever left my side?

A soft yawn brings me back from my thoughts. "Tell me about mum now."

I bow my head slightly. "Al-…" I stop suddenly and make a small noise that gestures my uncertainty. "Alenka." I take a deep breath, knowing this won't be easy, even after nearly a decade. I consider myself to be a man that has no need to beat around the bush, but whenever this subject comes up…

"Was she pretty? I've only seen one picture, and that was when I was really little. I remember she had hair like Mello, though."

I smile despite the small ache forming over my heart and the shouts resonating from my brain, telling me to drop the subject. "Yes, incredibly pretty. Blonde, freckled, and beautiful blue eyes… you have your mother's eyes you know."

Elena smiles a toothy grin, but remains silent, allowing me to continue.

"Your mother was brought to Wammy's House to focus on the arts, rather then becoming the future L or anything else law related. She had a talent for the piano and frequented the flute and violin as well, do you remember that?" I glance down at my Ella, as she rubs her eyes a bit.

"Yeah. But you said she was blind! How could she see the keys?" her voice is incredulous as her eyebrows form a furrow in a confused yet adorable way.

I lazily place an arm around the seven-year old, pulling her closer. "Well, the same way Ray Charles or Stevie Wonder did. They saw with their other senses. Your mother had memorized the _feel_ of the instruments. That, and the fact she had been playing since she was a young girl, before her inherited disease left her blind…" I trail off quietly, remembering her progressively worsening vision. Eyes like plump blueberries framed by pale lashes became milky, and one day she refused to keep them open any longer. Though I was never once disappointed with what had happened. It was life, after all.

I feel Elena sigh quietly into the side of my chest as she shifts a bit. "Why did she have to die, daddy? I never even got to meet her… it's not fair."

I squint my eyes in the darkness at nothing in particular. "No, it's not fair." I mumble in agreement.

Elena's eyes shut slowly; she sighs one final time, indicating sleep.

I also sigh, my mind's eye reliving memories I'd rather not remember.

_Auburn eyes stared at me from under unkempt ebony bangs. "Everything will work out, L. Patience is a virtue."_

But everything didn't work out.

_"It's common for younger women to have complications after birth. She'll get through this, don't worry."_

But she didn't get through it.

I remove my arm from behind Elena, slumping back into my customary position, my elbows resting on my knees as I rub my forehead with one hand.

My movements must have disturbed her sleep, because she's now up—"But daddy… how did mommy die?" and asking for more.

I turn to face Elena, almost regretting it. I don't know what my face looks like, but my sorrow must be showing obviously if she's staring at me in shock the way she is (I'm not the kind of person to show much else beside my poker face…).

But her eyes… Her sparkling eyes that hold so much concern.

I let out a shaky breath. It just doesn't make sense. How could I have loved— … how could I _love_ someone so intensely that I can't even bear to hold a steady gaze with my own child? _Why_ is the reminder so _painful?_

...How a cool color can ever be so warm is beyond my knowledge.

How such a depressing shade can ever be so enthusiastic is beyond fathomable.

How something so breath-taking can be so haunting… just…

Exactly the same as Alenka's.

"I wanna _know_."

"What?" My voice is a stressed whisper, my bottom eyelids rising on their own accord.

"How did she die? I wanna know." She stares expectantly; she doesn't know what she's asking of me, she just doesn't.

I can feel my pulse quicken. The sound of rushed movements, heart monitors, and the monotonous voices of doctors that aren't really there linger with the sound of my heartbeat thudding in my ears.

"… _Daddy_."

I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment, urging the weight in my throat and over my chest away, before opening them again. "There were…" I stop, shaking my head. How do I say this? "After you were born-"

Elena pouts whilst shaking my shoulder, oblivious to my inner turmoil. "Come _on!_" she urges in a whiny tone.

I suck in a sharp breath though gritted teeth. "Eleanor!" I grind her full name out through my clenched teeth a bit more harshly than I intend to, causing the child to shrink back.

…_Sigh_… What am I doing?

I entangle both of my hands into my already tousled hair, exhaling with a shudder.

This isn't like me. I don't break down.

My head snaps up when I feel the gentle pressure of a warm hand on my shoulder.

Watari stares down at me, his gaze holding empathy. He nods once.

Quillish Wammy… He always understands, and he gives his comfort in a subtle manner.

I grasp the hand on my shoulder tightly, letting him know my gratitude.

In spite of the silk sheets, the feather pillows and Swedish imported mattress… I feel no comfort in these inanimate objects. It's the man that truly raised me… the man that has been by my side since my childhood that brings me back to coherency.

A small sniffle draws my attention to the right, where Elena is on the verge of tears again.

I instantly feel a pang of guilt, knowing that I'm the reason for those tears, and it weighs down on my chest heavily. It's not her fault… I wasn't… For once in years, I wasn't in my right mind. I don't want to see her cry…

"I'm sorry…" she whispers, her voice wavering.

Suddenly, my words come back to bite me; words I'd muttered only minutes ago.

_"Elena, it's okay to cry when you're… upset. If you never cried, you wouldn't be human."_

But… I can't even will myself to cry, not after eight years…

I let go of Watari's hand and reach out, slowly this time, placing my hand over Elena's bangs. I know if I try to speak, my voice will crack; it's unsteady. But that doesn't matter. "Don't cry, wolf…" I whisper affectionately, my voice indeed coarse.

The seven year old dives into my chest not nearly a second after I held the arm out to her. I do not mind. Squeezing her gently, I rest my cheek atop her raven locks, suddenly damning the world around me.

Damn Kira, and _damn_ the world for its inconveniences.

The world won't take a moment's rest from crime whenever I wish to be L, the world's greatest father, rather than greatest _detective_...

* * *

/

**Notes on L's baby mama:** Alenka is a Slovakian or Russian name (I think the 1st). I originally had her as Mello's older sister ("Alenka Kheel"), but then I realized that Mello is ten years younger than L and the age difference wouldn't work out for how I planned L and Alenka's relationship dynamic. They would meet when they're 9 or 10 (Mello wouldn't even be alive lol).

Through the 2nd DN novel and from the manga/anime we know that L was found by Watari when he was 8 and "lived in England for 5 years" sooo that means he started traveling with Watari when he was 13? Of course for the purposes of my story he comes back from time to time (he's not a dad at 13 lmao).


	6. Mind Games

**Chapter 6: **More mind games.

* * *

… **Some Time Later**

My hardened resolve is back: eyes slightly widened, hands warm in my denim pockets, posture unbalanced.

I've been gone roughly sixty minutes, and I can't neglect the task force any longer.

"Listen to me closely, Ella."

Elena nods, gazing up at me from the bed as I stand before her.

"In about two hours… I need you to sneak into my room." I pause, and she nods again.

"From that vent over there," I point to a vent on the wall, behind a table. "You should be able to get to my room, and come out next to my bedside." Watari would guide her with an ear piece of course.

"Am I going to scare that man again?" she questions, her eyes alight with… anticipation? Really, what kind of delightful things have they been teaching her at the orphanage?

I tip my head up to stare at the ceiling for a moment, a thumb idly caressing my lower lip. "Yes, make him believe he's seeing things while everyone else is sleeping." I lower my head, holding Elena's gaze. "When you're done, get back in the vent and twist the screws back in place with your hands. Try to be quiet... Oh, and... be convincing, Ella." I add, knowing my little Wammy prodigy won't let me down.

We Wammy children are known for our creativeness… how we apply it is where the big picture comes into play. I know she won't disappoint.

"Also, please wear this when in the ventilation system." I produce a small face mask (properly known as a respirator) out of my pocket, the type any hospital staff would wear. "Goodnight for now."

Elena smiles warmly, taking my cool gaze as more than just an indifferent gesture. "See you in two, daddy."

I go to leave when…

"Just a minute!"

I turn back slightly as Elena stumbles over the soft bed and stands at its edge, reaching my slumped height. Without notice, she throws her small arms around my neck, holding on tightly.

This catches me off guard, but I relax and hug back with one arm encircling her tiny waist.

"Hi, daddy." She whispers against my neck. I can read between the lines.

It's been a year and a half since I've last seen her face to face.

I allow a tiny smile to make its way out. "Hello, Elena." I whisper back, bowing my head slightly.

**… 1:28AM**

The elongated handcuffs are back. Everyone, Light included, accepted my excuse of having to consult the other Ls on an important matter.

"So Ryuzaki, why are we turning in this early?" Light gets into the bed with one knee, still standing on the other leg. Even his sleeping clothes seem to be tailor made…

I am already seated on my side of the spacious bed, one hand holding a moderately sized glass of chocolate milk, the other hand in the midst of a box of girl-scout cookies. "It's nothing special, sometimes I simply prefer to get a few more hours of sleep than the previous night. That way I am mentally at full working capacity… etcetera, etcetera." I reply, taking a bite out of the double fudge cookie in my hand, then downing some of the milk. Of course, he doesn't need to know that I am an insomniac...

I've kept some tabs on Light when it comes to his sleeping patters.

1: He always needs a full eight hours (not that he's been getting his beauty sleep lately, mind you.)

2: Absolutely _no_ kind of noise can rouse the man in his sleep. But when it comes to physical contact, he's quite a light sleeper…

3: If he doesn't get any mental stimulation for a certain amount of time (say ninety minutes of sitting in silence), he begins to fall asleep (I first noticed this when he was in confinement).

And finally…

4: It takes him nearly a full minute to completely comprehend his surroundings when waking up. (I once had a rather amusing conversation with him when he was in confinement, after waking him from a nap.)

Those are all the things I need to know for this to work. He'll fall asleep fast, won't even blink at the sound of grates being removed, and after the deed's been done, he'll have such a hard time getting back to sleep, his pattern will be further disturbed.

There's nothing incredibly amazing about this, except for the fact that after a prolonged period of not getting the right amount of rest, the body becomes run down (My constant sugar intake prevents this from happening to me, obviously). He'll become snappy, a nervous mess, and he may just forget to cover up some part of this insane paper trail I've been following.

…It's highly unlikely that's he'll be so quick to stumble, but while we're finding no new evidence against anything, it's worth a try.

"We _will_ find Kira. Soon. I know it."

I turn my head just in time to catch the honest smile Light flashes at me; I offer him an agreeing hum in return.

Sometimes I do wonder… About his innocence, that is.

After placing the snack and glass aside, I turn and flop onto my stomach, the abrupt straightening of my back causing loud cracking sounds to emit from my spine. I can just imagine Light cringing from his side of the bed.

There are a few seconds of silence as I lay with my back to him (there is a mirror on the wall I'm facing, so he's not entirely out of sight… Along with the hidden cameras), before he sighs and reaches over to the table lamp on his side.

A soft click and then darkness engulfs the entire room.

"Hey Ryuzaki, what's that saying that the Americans have? _Sweet dreams, don't let the bed-bugs bite?_"

I raise an eyebrow in the darkness as he chuckles softly. He's obviously tired if he's talking like that. "Yes… sweet dreams, Light-kun."

A few more seconds of silence.

"… Mmmm… yeah, you too, Ryuzaki." he mumbles, those most likely being his last words for the night.

Sometimes I feel as if I'm simply watching over a misunderstood child… a very intelligent, supposedly mass-homicidal, _smug_ little… child.

Speaking of children… I glance at the radio-alarm clock on the nightstand next to me. Its red letters glow in the blackened room, showing me 1:43…

I honestly hadn't thought that Light would have fallen asleep as fast as he did. I guess I just have to wait now.

One of my _favorite_ games… Note the sarcasm, if you will.

As the digital clock strikes 2:51, I roll over onto my stomach again, leaving one arm dangling off the bedside, my pale fingertips barely brushing the soft carpet.

With this single arm, I drag my personal laptop to the side a bit and open it, the dim light of the screen illuminating the floor and wall a few square feet around it, but most importantly, the vent next to it. I then crawl a bit closer to the headboard, so I am able to reach the grate.

I wait a second—listening for any sudden noise indicating movement. After a moment of silence, I stretch my arm out so my hand hovers in front of it, before giving it a sharp flick. A small pang resonates from the action, but does nothing to disturb the peace.

I then squint through the shadows as I watch the screws holding the grate to the wall slowly push themselves out of their places. Once the last screw soundlessly hits the carpet, I hook my finger through one of the metal shutters and pull it back before it gets a chance to make noise in its decent.

A moment later, a small head pops out of the rectangular hole in the wall, followed by a body. I reflexively run my hand over her head before I assist my daughter in standing up. It's an affectionate habit of mine.

As I help Elena remove the small mask, I notice that she's dressed in the clothes she wore the previous day: this is good. Light is a very perceptive young man, after all.

She then holds her hands out to me, palms up. I glance down at them, then back to her face. I guess she wants me to feel them?

I'm able to grasp both of her tiny hands in one of mine, and… now I understand. Her hands are extremely cold to the touch, as if she's been playing with ice cubes for an hour straight.

Dead people aren't exactly warm blooded, now are they? I even notice that she's gone so far as to add a little powder to face, making her seem a bit pale.

I nod in approval, smiling the tiniest bit as she gives me a thumbs up.

Light is still _very_ much asleep. As a matter of fact, he started snoring rather loudly a few minutes ago… (He does that sometimes). He's on his back, his left (cuffed) arm laid out to his side so it almost touches me, his right arm over his stomach as the hand attached to it… well, it looks quite comfortable buried in his pants.

I tear my gaze away from the oblivious young man and aim it back at my daughter, nodding again to let her know that it's time.

She smiles deviously (Really, those boys must be influencing her…) and creeps around to the foot of the bed and over to Light's side. As she goes, I pick the screws from the carpet and place them back into the holes so they are ready for her escape.

I then turn back over and lay on my side pretending to sleep, but in reality I'm watching the whole scene play out through a strategically placed mirror across from my side of the bed.

As Elena makes her way slowly up to the teen's face, she rests her right hand daintily on top of his slightly exposed chest, sliding it up until she is cupping his cheek ever so lightly.

I just barely make out the sight of Light shuddering in his sleep.

"Kira…" her small, feeble voice scarcely reaches my ears.

She presses her fingers experimentally into his cheek, and finally there is movement.

"You _can't_ win, Kira…" she whispers in a slow, yet chastising manner.

I hear Light take a sharp intake of breath.

"Kiiiraaa—"

Light emits a strangled, yet quiet yelp and _swings_ his cuffed hand at Elena—she manages to dodge it—I act quickly—

Yanking hard on my side of the cuffs, I lean back as if falling out of bed, one arm over the edge. "AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH—"

Light flips over to me in shock "AAAAHHHHH!"

"—_AAAHHHHHHHH_—"

As we continue to scream at each other Elena crawls quickly around the bed and scuffles as quietly as possible back into the vent. I begin waving my arms to cover up my movement of pushing the grate back into the wall.

It looks as if I'm simply struggling not to fall off the mattress.

_**BAM**_

The two of us fall silent as our eyes dart to the door.

"WHAT'S GOING ON IN HERE?!" - "WHAT'S WRONG?!"

The voices of Soichiro Yagami and Touta Matsuda betray the identities of the black silhouettes entering the room.

There is a soft click and light suddenly floods my vision, causing me to squint.

The men have their weapons drawn as they scope the room for any abnormalities, but refrain from entering any further than Light's side of the bed.

Yagami senior asks firmly: "What's the meaning behind all the yelling in here?"

Yagami junior, who has a hand covering one side of his face, shakes his head momentarily before replying—starting with a slight waver— "It's _Ryuzaki_ and his damn ghost tactics!" he turns to me, glaring before he stands up, his head nearly touching the motionless ceiling fan.

Oh dear… it seems as if Light-kun is about to pounce…

Matsuda stutters from behind the chief of police "You-you don't mean a Sh-shinigami, do you?!"

"No!" Light then dives over my legs (pinning them), inquiring loudly as to my child's whereabouts as he leans over the side of the bed. "Come on, Ryuzaki, this isn't funny!" He lifts the comforter up to peer beneath the bed frame.

As he inspects the contents of the floor, my hands (more so my wrists) are up as if at gun point. I glance down beside Light with wide eyes.

...Good...

Light finally pushes himself back up with a huff of frustration while I am busy studying the wall to my right as inconspicuously as possible… The air vent has been screwed back in place flawlessly from the inside, my personal computer pushed back beneath the bed..

Perhaps… I have underestimated my young daughter's proficiency?

Very impressive, Ella.

…

Elena paused in the midst of the air shaft, a violent shiver catching her as air suddenly rushed through the vent. She fumbled through her pockets in the cramped passage, eventually finding and strapping on her mask. Elena then stilled, holding her breath; she could hear agitated conversation, followed by her father's calm voice. Being as careful as possible, Elena began her worm-like crawl again on elbows and knees, the towel underneath her making the movements easier and near soundless.

…

It was almost 4 A.M. and Elena, having recently dozed off, was awakened by a muffled commotion through the floor. The noise alone did not upset her but as she looked around the large, dark room, there was nobody in site and it frightened the child.

Quickly she stood, pulling the thick comforter over her head like a hood and tugged hard, taking the entire cover with her as she slid out of the bed.

Her footsteps could be heard padding towards a small office-like room in the suite, as well as the dragging of the heavy blanket, where Watari looked up from a computer monitor.

Swiveling slightly in his chair and placing a hand on his knee, the elderly man let out a short chuckle. "Yes, dear?" He seemed to have already been amused prior to his greeting.

Elena honed in on the computer screen with slightly parted lips. She could see her father and the young man he was handcuffed to.

Light Yagami. _Kira_. He didn't seem happy.

"_Ryuzaki you had the tapes tampered with, didn't you?!"_

Elena gasped slowly through tiny O-shaped lips as she looked up to Watari.

The British caretaker brought a finger up to his lips. "Don't tell anyone, it's a secret!"

L's daughter grinned up at him, her petite hands cupping her own cheeks. "Don't worry, I promise!"

Watari smiled fondly at the child, his crow's feet crinkling. "Good girl." he replied, patting her head.

* * *

**Note on "other Ls": **in the manga L tells Light that he consults with the other L's, more than once, and Light has like a "no way" kinda reaction. I've only read up to like volume 5-ish... maybe more, I don't remember, but yeah.

**Notes on Light's reaction**: A little silly, I know. Light did not intentionally try to hit Elena, and had he been more awake (napping/resting his eyes) he wouldn't have been scared. I know a lot of people that will hit/kick/elbow you if you try to wake them up, but this stemmed from a more personal place. I have weird dreams a lot, and to be honest I think I have sleep paralysis lol. But sometimes I'll wake up in the middle of the night, out of a weird dream, and with so much random shit in my room, I'll see all these weird shapes and get really scared because I think someone is leaning over me and will actually try to hit whatever it is (like my plastic flower chandelier that is obviously out of reach). And this has been going on my whole life, lol.

**So basically Light is dead asleep and something cold is touching him and there's someone in his face in a dark-ass room and he panics cuz he's not alert yet.**


	7. Recalling the Wolf

**Chapter 7: **In which L recalls some memories of his daughter over the last six years.

*Death Note disclaimer* Elena and her mother are all mine tho.

/

* * *

Let me just say that I believe children are naturally impressive beings; instinctual, open-minded, malleable beings that you can shape for greatness, or…

Farm as fodder for the corrupt world systems; lambs to wolves, minnows to sharks (so to speak), all living in a perpetual state of black and white thinking…

I remember in my Ella's first year I pondered quite a bit on what kind of abilities she would reveal to us; it had been too early to tell of course.

I then came to the debate of nature versus nurture. Just because she was the offspring of two naturally talented people did not necessarily mean she would grow up to be a prodigy.

But… her mind was ultimately mine to cultivate. And as luck would have it, she was an early speaker.

Yes… I used that to my advantage.

* * *

/**October of 1998**/

"Justice." L stated with a strong conviction.

"Jusis."

"_Just_- ihs."

"Jusfis!"

"_Just… _ihs"

"Jusis-is."

L stared blankly Elena, who had yet to reach her second birthday. His round eyes then took on an annoyed look as he frowned at the clapping toddler. The young, but world renowned detective slumped forward from his previously lotus-like position. "This really isn't fun, you know," L drawled, plopping his heavy hand on top of his daughter's forehead.

Elena made a sound of surprise and then sat with her mouth hanging open as L let his hand slide (more like drag) lazily down her face with the aid of gravity before falling limply to his own lap. She stared at his hand as if dumbstruck before breaking into a fit of giggles, covering her eyes with her own tiny hands.

The corner of L's mouth twitched slightly as he let out an amused "hn". Reaching out with the same hand, he brushed down softly on Elena's nose with his fingers, which she seemed to like, So L began a pattern of brushing down with the pads of his fingertips and up with his knuckles.

"Ella, listen…" L's tiny smirk vanished and she seemed to know to look up at him. "True justice… is _not_ synonymous with authority, remember that. Justice is made by whomever wins and is what _you_ make it to be… and the world simply follows that justice until there is a new winner…" The detective kept his index finger sitting lightly atop her button nose during the short monologue.

But there were lingering thoughts; thoughts that made him uncomfortable. Her big blue eyes concentrating on him didn't help his thinking process either.

Then a door clicked shut and a familiar voice spoke almost his exact thoughts: "Which is why you have to win at all costs, right L? But _what_ if she were to end up on the wrong side? What kind of justice would _she_ create?"

L's face became even less amused as he glanced at the dark mass circling around to his front; shaggy, dark hair, black t-shirt, black gym shorts, and white socks.

Not to mention a cocky smirk.

Beyond Birthday, or rather, B, belly-flopped onto L's mattress, his face near his mentor's bare feet.

L curled in his toes in an attempt to keep away from the younger male's face. "You really _should_ stop doing that. It's quite unnecessary…"

"Doing what?"

"The door was locked for a reason…"

"No it wasn't."

L, without turning his body or head towards his successor, blinked slowly, his gaze trailing over to the young teen. "_Yes_… it was."

B was more than tickled as he began snickering, burying his face into the sheets momentarily before looking back up at L with a deep inhale. "And what are you going to do about it?" he breathed out with a wide smile, his eyes piercing the detective.

L's face remained impassive as he began thumbing his bottom lip. He then leaned back, uncrossing his legs.

B let out a muffled exclamation when L suddenly slapped his bare foot onto the teen's face and gave a hard shove, pushing the defiant successor off of the bed. L noted just how satisfying the sound of his body sliding against the sheets and thumping onto the hardwood floor was.

Elena twisted around with a wondrous gaze, but did not move from her spot. "Byyye byyye."

"Yes…" L looked up to the ceiling while straightening his legs so that they lay on each side of the child. "What she said." Head still tilted back, he let his gaze slide down again and locked eyes with B's rather intense stare peeking over the edge of the mattress.

If the detective hadn't known better he would say his heir was angry with him, but L knew the teen was probably biting his lips with mirth beyond his field of vision.

At that point L would have rolled his eyes if it were in his character, but instead changed the subject. "Did you solve the human trafficking case?"

"I was too busy with my own devices," B replied with no qualms, creeping back up to rest his chin on the bed. "Ask Mello."

"…I see."

Beyond only entertained solving L's side cases if they involved murder.

And L knew very well that B had not passed the case onto an 8 year old, impressive as the child was.

The detective leaned forward until his elbows were touching the bed and his unruly hair was tickling Elena's face. "Then you may leave."

B smirked in challenge to the firm stare he was receiving from beneath L's shadowing bangs. "Alright, but not without saying goodbye to my queen."

L arched an already hidden eyebrow at the peculiar pet name, but sat back when B swept the giggling toddler up into his arms. "Please refrain from dropping the child while you're at it," he lightly mumbled.

But there was no way B would drop Elena holding her so… _lovingly_—more so than L had _ever_ done…

The way he held her securely under her bottom and pressed her head firmly yet gently into the crook of his neck, caressing Elena's baby-soft hair with his fingertips and nuzzling the side of her face with his nose—inhaling the natural baby scent before it went away.

It was enough for L's brow to furrow in suspicion.

* * *

/**June of 2000**/

"Daddy…" Elena whispered, swinging L's little finger around with her entire hand. "What's wrong?"

The kitchen was dark, of course, at midnight, save for the illumination of the half-open, double-door refrigerator. Its light was cast upon their faces, causing their eyes to gleam in the dark.

L faced its contents with a sour demeanor. "This is just no good…"

"What?"

L sighed dramatically in the orphanage's kitchen and slapped the door handle as if it had spoken ill of his grandmother. The door closed with a resounding _smack. _"There is nothing sweet in this _entire_ building!" He groaned loudly, his voice sounding slightly constricted as he bent his knees low and let his head fall back.

It was a Friday night, or rather a Saturday morning, so Roger, the current caretaker, would most likely be going shopping later that day.

When Mr. Wammy left Thursday to check on his other orphanages, L had depleted the kitchen's stock of anything sweet; juice, gram crackers, cereal, cookies, fruit…

And the detective had not felt like going out on his own to find food that suited him, so…

L groaned again, quietly that time, one thumb massaging his lower lip; he glanced down at his three and a half-year old daughter. "Would you like to go into town with me?" he asked her lightly. "I'd be very appreciative if you said yes."

He could make out the silhouette of her tiny arms raising in excitement. "Yes!"

L ushered the giddy child out of the kitchen and soon the pair found themselves on the nearly deserted streets of Winchester, England. The beat up tennis shoes that L was wearing like slippers smacked the bottoms of his heels with almost every step he took.

They walked in silence for the most part, Elena occasionally tugging on his pants leg ("Daddy, _look!_") to point out some great architectural feat, or other odd people milling about at nearly one in the morning.

They traversed through the Winchester Cathedral Walk and soon arrived in the center of town where there was a bit more commotion than L had predicted. But, as they approached the café he'd had in mind, he was glad to see the majority of night owls kept to the streets.

When they were inside, L directed Elena to the booth farthest from the entrance and against a window. He allowed her to crawl in first before he stepped onto the seat and crouched into his regular position, one of the workers approaching their booth a second later.

It was the owner's son, Harold (as the tag read), who was probably a few years older than L. He laughed hesitantly at the detective's eccentric sitting style and messy appearance before welcoming them and offering two menus.

"Oh," L held up a hand at the gesture. "That won't be necessary." He said lightly. L then proceeded to order one slice of each of the 8 types of cakes the shop offered.

Harold chuckled good-naturedly at the request and spoke in a sweet tone directed at Elena: "Wow, big brother spoiling you while mum and dad are out of town, is he?"

L removed the thumb that had found its way to his mouth and regarded the man with half pursed lips and a bland stare. "I am her father."

Harold was flushed with embarrassment. "_Oh_. Haha—you look so young!" His eyes widened dramatically. "I mean—_erm—_I'll be right back with your cakes!" the twenty-something year old turned on his heel and hurried away.

L's lips became slightly pouty, though his stare remained impassive; he didn't see why people reacted so awkwardly when the topic of him being a father came up. But, not really being all that moved by the man's reaction, L turned back to his three-year old, who was playing with the salt and pepper shakers.

"Keep the containers upright, Ella," he advised calmly. "You don't want to make a mess." L rested his palms over the peaks of his knees as Elena nodded, smiling. He then looked out of the shop's window to their right.

The small crowd that had been there before had apparently moved on, and there were only three people standing around a bus stop across the street.

L hummed thoughtfully at the opportunity that had suddenly presented itself. He turned his enlarged eyes to his daughter and put a hand over the dancing condiment containers to gain her attention.

"Elena."

"Huh?"

L tipped his chin towards the people across the street. "Tell me something about the group of people over there." He said, sliding the salt and pepper away once her gaze turned towards the street.

Elena kicked her legs for a moment as she watched the stationary threesome. She then whipped her head back to L and chirped "They work together!"

The Wammy's House prodigy found himself with a pleasantly surprised smile. He had been expecting the three year old to shrug, or say something like _they look bored_. "How did you come to that conclusion?"

Elena blinked, looking up to her father with wonder-filled eyes. "What's a _cunclooshun?_"

L, not wanting to break the momentum, reworded his question. "Never mind. Ella, how did you figure out that those people work together?"

Elena pointed to her chest and grinned. "They have... the big _orange_ buttons!"

With a tiny smirk, L's gaze flickered back up to the two women and man, all of them indeed sporting large, orange badges over their breasts. He had of course noticed all three, even the male's mostly covered one. They were borderline flamboyant against all three of their dull outfits.

But they were still something a small child would have overlooked; this was only one occasion in which L worked to destroy the label of someone her age not being very observant. It seemed to be working.

He was prepared to ask a series of questions, but instead jumped towards the end: "Ella, tell me, of those three people… which one do _you_ think would rob a bank?"

Her smile dropped and she looked at L as if he were some new, interesting species of animal. Slowly turning back to the window, she placed her elbows on the table top and rested her face in her hands.

_Person number one_: a teenage boy, slumped into the bench far enough for his head to be touching the back of it. His hands were deep in his pockets and he was waving one foot from side to side. He wore a beanie, ripped jeans, and an expression of cold indifference.

_Person number two_: a woman in her twenties, leaned forward, elbows on her knees, cigarette in mouth. She was wringing her hands. She occasionally looked left and right.

And _person number three_: A petite woman, thirty at the most, standing next to the bench with her hands interlocked in front of her. She stared straight ahead and seemed to sigh deeply from time to time.

Elena began kicking her feet again. Finally looking back up to L, she whispered, as if afraid of being overheard, "The scary lady in the middle."

L prodded his bottom lip gently at her deduction. In his head, there was no right or wrong answer; all three of them had probable cause. The first was bored with life and seeking attention through less than lawful means, the second was a recovering addict, and third, most likely a hardened criminal. L could see the tail end of an intricate tattoo sticking out from underneath her three-quarter sleeves. And if he was seeing it right, it was definitely a mark of certain affiliation...

Why else would she wear sleeves that long during June? Even L was wearing his only short-sleeved shirt. And if it were to hide during work, she would have worn even longer sleeves, then rolled them up later to cope with the summer heat.

Nonetheless, L was slightly impressed that Elena had not gone right for the stereotype of the male bank robber. But this brought L to muse over her "nurturing". She probably didn't see the man as the stereotypical troublemaker because she was used to sloppy, seemingly cold teenage boys; her constant exposures being Beyond and himself.

It was when Elena slid a plate of chocolate cake towards herself did L jump slightly, thanking the young waiter in a distracted manner as he too pulled a plate forwards. Carrot cake.

It was somewhat ironic watching them eat; most people would view the way L held his utensils with the tips of his fingers as odd, whereas the same bunch would giggle and _aw_ at Elena attempting the same thing.

But the fork kept slipping from between her tiny fingers and clattering onto the table. "_Daddy_, help me!" She tugged on his right sleeve with a whine.

L's eyelids lowered as he reached over and sliced a piece of her chocolate cake for himself. "Just eat normally, Ella." He answered in a weary tone before sticking the fork into his mouth. "Mmm… could be sweeter."

Elena pouted all the while and proceeded to play with her powdered cake moodily. But, after she took the first bite, she was back to kicking her legs and making cute satisfactory noises. The small girl was about to make an exclamation of how good the dessert was when something cold and wet plopped against the tip of her nose.

L smiled mischievously as he retracted the half whip cream-covered strawberry and bit off the tip, careful not to touch his lips to it.

Watching his daughter, the young detective knew if there had been any others around they would be cooing and laughing over how Elena became cross-eyed trying to look down her nose.

She then giggled, facing him as she covered her nose with both hands. "Gross!"

L continued into his strawberry shortcake with an amused look, not expecting Elena to grab his bicep with both hands. By the time she was rubbing her whip creamed nose onto his shirt, all L could do was sit tensely with his shoulders high, eyes squeezed shut and nose crinkled. He swallowed prematurely and cracked one eye open.

Elena was laughing at him.

Easing up his tense posture somewhat, L turned to his daughter with his wide, unreadable gaze. "Young lady, I believe you just passed me in grossness."

* * *

/**December 27****th****, 2002**/

L leaned his hunched shoulder against a door frame, his ear close to touching the white door.

It was well past bedtime when the detective had wandered into the playroom to stretch his legs and noticed that the Playstation 2 that Watari had brought back for Christmas was missing… as well as the television set that was usually there.

And so L was poised silently outside of a boy's room, his hand grasping the already twisted door knob. He also knew that if he put some of his weight on it, the door would not squeak when he opened it.

L could hear voices and childish laughter. It was then that he pushed the door open swiftly, exclaiming loudly into the half-lit darkness: "BOO!" Before he could raise his other arm in a spooky manner, the astounding response of screams he received was enough to make his eyes widen further in alarm and take a step back.

Suddenly, the hard edge of some rectangular object hit the bridge of L's nose, _hard_, causing him to flinch and grab his face in pain. In that split second he had smelled something sweetly familiar.

"L!" A boy's voice called out, somewhat surprised, somewhat angry.

The detective/father in mention peered through his spidery fingers as Mello hit the light switch next to the door. The twenty three-year old and thirteen-year old shared a wide-eyed stare.

But L couldn't allow himself to be upset with the three whilst he pinched his nose gingerly. "Impressive…" he murmured, sliding his other hand into his pocket.

"Daddyyy!" L's daughter, having been cowering under a blanket next to Matt, sprang up and towards him.

As Elena threw her arms around L's waist, Matt commented with one hand over his chest, the other clutching a black controller "L, you really scared us!"

"Yeah," Mello cut in. "Do we have to go to bed now?" he seemed a bit grumpy at the idea.

"Are you gonna tell on us for moving the PlayStation and TV?" Matt questioned.

"I _don't_ wanna go to bed!" Elena pouted.

L, waiting for them to finish, replied calmly: "No, no, and you _don't_ have to." He removed the hand that was resting on the back of Elena's head to scratch his scalp. "I was merely testing your resolve under an extreme situation."

Mello and Matt shared dubious glances.

L continued. "I was impressed with Mello's ability to make use of any object as a weapon." He then squatted, forcing Elena to step back as he picked up the thick chocolate bar that had landed on his bare right foot. Standing, the detective then stepped fully into the room and offered the sweet treat back to Mello by the tips of his index finger and thumb.

The blond received it with a sheepish apology.

Elena grabbed L's hand with a smile. "Daddy, can you stay with us?"

"Yeah!" Matt and Mello exclaimed together.

L cast a sidelong glance at the twenty-inch television sitting on the floor, where blankets, a sleeping bag turned sideways, and numerous pillows were piled. "If you insist…" he decided, shuffling further into the room as the kids made victorious exclamations.

He had already informed the London police on where the Jewel thief would be later into the night, so there was time to kill.

Because L did not want to put pressure on his tailbone, he laid on his side in front of the television, almost completely in the fetal position, a pillow snug between his head and the arm he was laying on.

Mello sat cross-legged next to L's head, Elena laid over the back of her father's knees, and Matt laid on his stomach beside the detective's feet.

The young gamer explained that they were playing Spyro, which was from a previous gaming generation. Matt controlled a miniature, purple dragon and engaged in conversation with an odd-looking character; the setup for some type of mission.

_I was playing catch with my pet wolf, Farley, but I accidently threw his ball down this hole and he went in after it. Now he's stuck down there. I feel so helpless… sitting up here… listening to his steadily softening whimpers… _Don't_ cry, wolf… never cry, wolf…_

While L stared blankly at the character interaction, Elena suddenly exclaimed "Awww! _Don't_ cry, wolf!" with the utmost empathy, causing Matt to chuckle and Mello to roll his eyes.

"It's not even real, Elle—we aren't even near it yet!"

Elena pouted, but remained silent.

Matt maneuvered the purple dragon down the hole. A small, brown, cartoony wolf pup was waiting for him with a toy ball. The goal was to lead it to the end by acquiring the ball and placing it (spitting it) onto pressure sensitive switches that activated rising platforms.

While Matt was taking aim, Elena wrapped her arms around one of L's knees. "Daddy, I want a baby wolf too!"

"That's not something I would recommend." He replied perfectly serious, eyes never leaving the game.

"Pleeeease?" she begged, crawling up to his face and looking down at him. "I want a black wolf!"

L twisted around slightly to look at her with round eyes. "Don't you know? Wolves love eating cute, little girls like yourself."

"What? _No!_" she giggled. "You're funny, daddy!"

L blinked, eyeing his daughter with a contemplative look. "Am I..?" He turned back to the TV slowly, as if he'd discovered something odd, yet interesting.

…

Not even an hour later Elena was passed out in front of L, curled against his body, her small hands clutched around her father's arm that was draped over her waist. The two older boys were yawning like pregnancy contractions; more and more frequent as time went by.

It must have been two in the morning. The eldest in the room decided it was time to put the children to bed.

L sat up and slipped one hand under his six year-old's head, the other under her knees, and lifted her up as he stood.

There were a few grumbles, but eventually the two boys gravitated away from the video game.

As L approached the door, he turned back to them and bid the two a good night.

Matt waved, but Mello followed L into the dark hallway, closing the door behind them. "L, can I ask you something?"

"You just did—but yes. Walk with me." L continued without another word, causing Mello to blink before following his mentor.

"Um, I just wanted to know…" he started after catching up. "Now that Beyond isn't here anymore, who're you gonna… choose next?" The blond seemed anxious.

The two rounded a corner and L puckered his lips a bit in thought. "I honestly haven't put much thought into it…" It was a difficult business, lining up children that would one day replace him. The very first had committed suicide, and after all the other children up until the current point, B, the second child, had proven himself and was the main contender to inherit the "L" title.

But he had run away earlier in the year, and after all was said and done, B was serving a life sentence in Los Angeles…

"Have you met Near?" Mello suddenly asked.

"No, but his name has been mentioned to me several times." L spent the majority of the last four days in his room, preferring to venture out (if he had time) after the children were put to bed.

"They say he's a genius…" the adolescent's tone became darker.

"Mm. Those are hard to come by." L replied in an airy manner, stopping when they reached a door on the other side of the orphanage.

There were two bunk beds in Elena's room, three other girls of various ages slumbering peacefully.

As L laid his daughter on the bottom of one bunk, several loud beeps emitted from his jeans, causing her to stir. The detective made a noise of uncertainty as he glanced down at his left pocket. "I guess I'll be leaving this morning instead of after the New Year…"

"_No_, daddy, don't leave…" Elena half grumbled, half whined as she sat up.

L's frown couldn't be seen in the darkness of the room. "Elena, I have to. My help is needed by very important people." He was also eager to find out how the case he'd been keeping tabs on had escalated to the point that he would have to get involved.

L had offered his assistance to the Australian police via Watari. If L's pager was sounding, then Quillish Wammy (Watari) must have just been contacted.

"I don't want you to go!"

"Ella…"

Her voice began to waver. "But I never get to see you!"

L was slightly thankful that he couldn't make out her face too well; he began biting his nails with a furrowed brow. He knew if he were to try to make Elena understand the importance of the situation she would only cry and protest for however long he attempted to talk sense into her. "I'm sorry, Ella. I have to leave." He caressed the top of her head as he stood a bit straighter. "We'll talk soon, I promise."

"I don't _wanna_ talk on the phone!" Elena suddenly exclaimed. "I wanna see you!" She stood up, careful not to hit her head, and grabbed at her father's long sleeve.

Before L could sigh, two tired groans sounded from the dark, a third voice even muttering annoyed profanity.

Mello was still in the doorway, an indifferent look upon his face, although he agreed with L's daughter and felt a bit down at the sudden departure.

So L sighed, not particularly liking his next course of action. "Alright, I'll stay…"

Elena didn't cheer, but hugged him tightly without a word, practically gluing herself to L as he lowered himself into the twin-sized bed.

When he got comfortable, he wasn't quite sitting up or laying on his back. A pillow was helping L stay in the in-between position; he could lay that way with his legs bent comfortably.

Elena's head was resting over L's chest; she listened to his steady heartbeat with one arm draped over him, her small fist balled around the white fabric of his sweater.

A few moments passed in silence as Mello switched weight from one foot to the other before he finally decided to head back to his room.

"Wait." Came L's sharp voice through the dark.

Mello turned back with wide eyes. Through his slightly adjusted vision he could make out L's profile facing his way; a pale hand beckoned him closer. The preteen crept back into the room and stopped next to the bedside.

"Sit for a while." L told him.

So Mello sat at the edge of the bed; he was tired, but knew L had a good reason for requesting his presence. The detective was probably waiting to tell him something after Elena fell asleep.

And sure enough, maybe ten minutes later, Elena's foot twitched a few times, followed by her small fingers, and L reached out to prod the nodding teen that sat beside him.

Mello rubbed his eyes while turning to his mentor.

"I need your assistance, Mello." He whispered.

The boy fully awoke at L's words.

"Please relay this message to Watari… and do apologize on my behalf if he's gone back to bed."

And so L spoke softly to Mello for a few minutes before the blond rose to find Quillish Wammy.

…

The next morning was far from pleasant. Elena had awoken by the noise created from the other girls going about their morning routines, and was still snugly tucked into her bed when she realized L had left her.

Tears came immediately, and the three other girls, all older than her, failed in their attempts to comfort the six year-old. It had gotten to the point where the eldest (a fourteen year old) left the room to go get reinforcements.

She came back with Mello, who seemed extremely bothered, with his hair disheveled and eyes squinted.

Elena's loud crying first thing in the morning was not working for him (to put it lightly). But then Mello remembered her display only five hours before and sighed as he ran a hand through his bangs. "Elle, it's alright," he attempted to sooth in a tired voice, sitting beside her. "Your dad will be back, he just had a case come up, that's all."

"_No!_" Elena sobbed and hiccuped, rubbing her eyes repeatedly. "I want my daddy!"

Mello blinked slowly as his gaze gravitated towards the ceiling; he did _not_ want to be near all of her crying and hollering. That's when he remembered: "Elena, look! Didn't you see your gift?" He pointed behind her with an expectantly arched eyebrow.

Elena sniffled and hiccuped some more as she turned around slowly, still under the covers. "Huh?" Slightly pushed into the crease between the bed and the wall was something black and fuzzy. She pulled it out and gasped at what it was: a black wolf doll. Elena hugged the plush doll to her chest and buried her face in it as if it were her father himself.

Mello felt his mood improving as she quieted down to the occasional whimper or hiccup. "There's a note on it, Elle." He pushed her shoulder lightly to get her to look up. When she was too slow to make a grab for it, Mello snatched the sticky note off of the toy's bushy, black tail and held it for Elena to see.

The handwriting was barely legible; almost worse than Elena's. But she could read it, even as Mello spoke the words on the paper for her.

_Don't cry, wolf._

_ - L_

* * *

**Author's note: **that last flashback sort of went off track and maybe L was out of character, I really don't even know after reading L: Change the World. He's so much more dynamic than he is in the manga/anime... But anyway, **I wanted to explain the "don't cry, wolf" line from chapter 5. **What it's from is real (Spyro, Year of the Dragon) and I hope I have some Spyro fans reading this that know about it xD

UPDATE 10/7/14: I changed the date and brief mentioning of Beyond in the last flashback to match the novel more since I just read it again after like... however many years it's been since it came out.


	8. Freckles

**Chapter 8**: More L reminiscing (and Alenka character Notes at the end of the chapter).

Also thank you for the faves/follows/reviews so far! :D

* * *

/**September 14th, 2004**/

Sometimes my guilt weighs heavier than I care to handle… Criminals are dying. It goes without saying that some of them deserve it, but…

_Justice never sleeps_, as they say, which is making this all the more difficult on me, not being able to prevent these murders from occurring; my _mind_ never stops, but always runs into the same wall…

…Kira… Light Yagami… and Misa Amane…

I sink further into the warm water, eyeing the yellow duck floating above my abdomen.

Yes, we bathe handcuffed. I had two freestanding bath tubs installed next to each other recently, each with their own shower heads.

Of course I prefer bubble baths to showers, and always get my way. If push came to shove, I'm ninety percent certain that Light would not want to get into a physical altercation with me once our clothes have come off. That would be queer.

Light, who is sitting with his back to the open bathroom door, yawns and rests his elbows on the edges of his tub.

I face the doorway; I prefer to have him in my sight. It's a little off-putting for him, but he should know by now that it comes with the territory.

"Ryuzaki…"

I look up. Light's eyes are trained on his cellular device that sits on a stool to his right. The phone is lit up.

It was made clear that his phone was to be off at all times when in the building, but recently the teen has been experiencing some… technical difficulties. Technical difficulties meaning his cell phone turning on when it's supposed to be off.

Not to mention a few blank text messages from an untraceable number…

The college student emits a soft sigh. "I'd ask if you're using some technology to get into my calling and text history, but that'd be a little dumb, wouldn't it?" He held up the chain trailing from his wrist, regarding my blank stare with an arched eyebrow.

"Yes, agreed. Perhaps someone is trying to tell you something?"

Light rests his head in the palm of his hand, briefly closing his eyes. "You mean your little ghost?" He doesn't have to feign his tiredness.

My eyes widen slightly. "At this point I would say _your_ little ghost. It's been over a month hasn't it?" Leaning forward, I rest my chin on my knees. "Nobody else has seen this child you keep encountering… I was right next to you when you claimed to have seen her in the mirror last week." I glance over to the mirror above the spacious bathroom sink.

I had received the reaction I was hoping for when he started at the sight of her behind him, but more so when he actually turned around and saw that Elena was not even present. The glass was replaced with a special screen for that evening only, but Light doesn't need to know that little detail... He's been looking over his shoulder a lot these days.

The hand he was using to lean against is now in his hair, rubbing wearily. "I'm not Kira…" he mutters, closing his eyes again. I notice that dark circles have formed under his eyes…

_Oh_..? Is my little _charade_ finally getting to you, Light Yagami?

Silence falls on the room as I observe Light calmly; he seems genuinely troubled.

And like an ambulance turning on its siren next to our imaginary vehicle, an unnecessarily loud voice calls out "OH LI~IIIIGHT!" Startling both of us out of our reveries.

Misa Amane enters the bathroom, clad in… only a towel…

My eyes widen and I find myself frozen in place.

She notices me after stepping fully into the room and blanches. "_Ew_, what is Ryuzaki doing in here?!" she turns to the side slightly, holding the wrapped towel a bit tighter to her body. "Quit staring at me, pervert!"

Almost robotically, I turn my face away from her nearly nude form.

How many times has she called me a pervert now…?

"_Misa_…" Light's tone is that of irritation as he turns slightly around.

"Light! You guys take baths together too?! Oh this is so unfair!" She begins to rant on how they never have any true personal time, before Light snaps at the petite blonde.

"Misa! We've been _handcuffed_ together for over a month now. It's only natural that we would have to coexist like this. Now would _please_ give us our privacy!" Both of his hands are raised as if to show how fed up he is.

Amane makes a feeble noise of protest before acquiescing to Light's request, pouting all the while.

The bathroom door closes with a soft click and I turn back to face where she had been standing. "Light-kun… taking his frustrations out on Misa-san? That's no way to talk to someone who adores you so much…"

"Huh… I thought you would've thanked me for that one…" he's back to the previous fatigued state he was in before the intrusion. "You know—"

I don't hear whatever he says next. I sigh wistfully, eyes still glued to the door. Misa Amane is gone, but I can see her, towel covering a much fuller bust, freckles splayed all over her shoulders, chest, and outer thighs.

"_L, stop taking the bath robe." _One hand is laying on the counter; she has yet to memorize her surroundings._ "Get a blanket if you're cold!"_

Yes… her faded, Russian accent still sounds the same…

"Ryuzaki..?"

I look up to Light slowly. He seems concerned.

"What's wrong?"

My eyelids droop low. "Oh… it's nothing." I reply, resting my hands on my knees while moving my gaze back down. That feeling… it's returning…

The sort of feeling that saps all of my energy; I'm unable to move, it becomes a chore to even turn my head. I feel weak from the anchor that's weighing down my heart…

"Are you sure?"

It takes me a moment, but I answer back in a murmur. "I'll say it again, Yagami-kun… You're a lucky man…"

"_I take it from all of the intermissions you must be composing."_

I remember the sound of her piano play leaking through to my room from a few floors above.

She had smiled, turning at the sound of my voice. _"Somewhat… I'm just trying to remember a song from when I was little._" Her finger tips slid from the piano keys to the bench she sat on. _"Is it disturbing you?"_

No, it _never_ disturbed me, Alenka…

"I happen to recall the world's greatest detective saying that I was his _first_ friend…" Light's tone rises to emphasize his words. "And I meant what I said about _you_ being an irreplaceable friend, Ryuzaki."

Such sincerity… I least I feel it to be…

"That being said, I'm a bit conflicted by your behavior." He seems livelier than just minutes before, as if rising to the challenge of figuring me out. "I can't tell if you have feelings for Misa, or if you're sad over the loss of something else… a relationship, maybe?"

I cast him a gloomy look. "Your deductive skills are remarkable as always."

He smiles dryly. "But you won't tell me which is right."

I give a lazy groan, poking at the smiling, rubber duck. "Light-kun doesn't have to worry about me having feelings for Misa-san." The toy refuses to stay submerged as I push it beneath the water with my index finger. "She is a beautiful, talented woman. You are lucky. I was once in your shoes…"

I watch him out of the corner of my eye. Light's staring intently, probably trying to find a way to gain more information without seeming nosey or suspicious.

He goes the round-about way instead. "You don't seem like a guy that's interested in casual relationships, especially with your secret status as L." I can almost see his cogs turning. "She must have known who you were, and you trusted her; you loved her. She has to be the mother of your child." Light is leaned forward in a position similar to the one I usually take.

I face him in somber silence and after a few seconds he blinks, straightening his posture as he apologizes.

I continue to watch him. "…She was… the mother of my child."

Having previously been massaging his eyelids, Light looks at me with mild surprise. "Oh… Ryuzaki, I'm sorry…"

"It's fine."

We heave heavy sighs at the same time and I raise my hands out of the water to inspect my fingers.

Not pruney yet.

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious about what kind of woman L would choose as his partner…" he's got a tiny smirk on his face as he lays back to relax. "I can only imagine her being one in a million…"

I don't know if this short conversation relieved some intangible weight off of my shoulders, but I no longer feel the dread-awful depression from before.

Looking up to the ceiling, I answer "She was nothing like me, if you're wondering… It was her mentality, quirk, and initiative that deepened my initial affections for her." Because my initial affections had been partly superficial and partly gratuitous for her being my _true_ first friend… not that I'd had a choice in the matter.

I find myself smiling…

I blink, something in me suddenly feeling refreshed. "Yagami-kun." He moves his tired, yet easy-going gaze to me as I raise an index finger to point at the ceiling. My eyes are trained on the digit's tip. "You will never hear me claim to be a ladies' man, but know this: L's charm was enough for _her_."

"Right… Nothing new there, Ryuzaki."

When I snap my head to look at him, he's smirking in amusement. Index finger still raised, my brow furrows and I stick my tongue out at the younger male.

* * *

/**May of 1988**/

L had chosen to tag along with Mr. Wammy to London that day, having weighed the options to stay in the orphanage (that hadn't quite reached his comfort level yet), or to get some fresh air (as many recommended to him). So he almost eagerly requested to accompany his caretaker; the only person he felt truly at ease with.

Even in the car, L sat with his knees drawn up, hugging them loosely. His eyes moved steadily with the passing scenery for the majority of the ride. The trip had taken just under two hours. A solved Rubik's cube sat beside him on the expensive backseat.

They finally arrived at an official-looking office.

The business associate had been called in advance, so Quillish Wammy parked his dark car at the front doors.

The fifty five-year old stepped around to the back and opened the door next to L. "I won't be long. You'll be able to see me through the doors there—" Mr. Wammy motioned to the glass front doors. "And she'll be sitting in the back with you. Is that alright?"

When questioned, L looked up slightly at the older man. "Yes, it's alright." The small detective only hoped she wouldn't bother him.

The founder of Wammy's House and young detective of legend were in London to pick up a girl L's age and bring her back to the orphanage. L had only been informed of this halfway through the drive, probably to prevent him from changing his mind.

As a young boy, he had already told himself several times that he did not understand females. But L knew it wouldn't be the end of the world. If the new girl became too talkative or weird, he would just pretend to sleep.

While on that train of thought, the transaction that went on inside the building went by surprisingly fast. L hadn't even remembered to the roll the window back up that Mr. Wammy had let down for him before the caretaker and child approached the vehicle.

Before the young prodigy could get a good look at her, he turned his gaze to his knees and placed his hands there. Mr. Wammy opened the opposite door a moment later, helping the other child get situated with her seatbelt next to L.

"_Thahnk_ you." Her soft voice had an accent that L could not discern from the single phrase alone. Most likely a country west of Germany.

When the door was shut, L glanced briefly at the newcomer, waiting for her to commence the pleasantries, but quickly did a double-take, turning fully to her with widening eyes.

She saw his abrupt movement and looked at him, eyebrows slightly risen.

He had thought it was vitiligo—so splotchy and covering her entire face, trailing down her neck and most likely farther than her jacket's collar would allow him to see. She was _incredibly_ freckled. And at the center of that freckle-splattered face were two big, _blue_ eyes—eyes like refined sapphires reflecting back at him. Her lashes were pale, eyebrows as well, strawberry-blonde hair chin-length as if grown out from an old bowl cut.

L was awestruck, and inhaled through his nose as if he'd forgotten to keep breathing.

She bristled at his scrutiny, her brow furrowing as she leaned back slightly. "Poot your eyebrows down," she said with a Russian accent. "You look crazy."

Her first words to him.

L blinked, losing some of his expression, but remained staring as he leaned towards her with his rounded gaze. "Are you an _angel?_" He whispered.

The girl straightened in surprise, her face innocent and curious. "No, I am _Alenka_."

"I see." The boy replied, as if he'd known the answer all along. "In that case, I'm not crazy, I'm L." he answered lightly and subsequently stuck a thumb in his mouth.

* * *

/**May of 1992**/

L practically drug his feet as the group of Wammy's children proceeded through Winchester. It was Alenka that had dragged him by the hand to go on the midday excursion, and Alenka that kept him from regretting leaving his room.

Even when she wasn't entertaining him with odd riddles and morbid what-if situations about passersbys, L contented himself with staring at the back of her neck. The blonde's long hair was in a high bun; he tried to count all the freckle formations on her nape.

At one point L sighed, and not realizing how close he was when they had stopped walking, was grazed by her fingers when she reached back to wave him off.

"L, stop breathing down my _neck_. I'm not apple cake." She chided quietly, adjusting her thick eyeglasses.

Because he had compared her natural color scheme to a perfectly baked apple cake; golden fluff offset by brown crumbles.

As well as a giraffe without its long neck…

Alenka huffed and pulled L forward to walk beside her. He gave a disagreeable grunt and frowned, but made no further verbal complaint.

A few of the teenage girls behind them giggled at the display.

Their group of thirteen minors and three female, adult supervisors walked down a sidewalk past several shops, boutiques and cafés. L became more attentive to his surroundings once they passed by a window full of sweets.

"STOP! THIEF!"

All eyes turned to the top of the avenue; a man in a sweat suit holding a yellow purse sprinted towards the orphans, two coppers a half block behind.

The women in charge all shrieked warnings as they ushered the young children out of the way, the older kids helping. Even L, who'd frozen at the sight, had enough time to react and reach for the collar of Alenka's jacket.

But at the last second, she slipped from his grasp. His jaw dropped. The man was about to run right past them—_over_ them if they didn't watch out.

She picked up a wooden café chair and—

_**CRACK**_

—smashed the chair into the crook's face, a leg flying off in the process. There was an immediate uproar from the group.

The man fell hard, nose bleeding, and stared at the sky for a moment, dazed. Alenka took that time to stand over him and spit onto the man's face. This seemed to rouse him.

The thief snarled—"Bitch!"—reaching for her leg, but L was faster, yanking her back by the arm.

"DON'T MOVE!" The police arrived, guns pointed down at the man. They promptly cuffed and hoisted the criminal away, but not before offering their chastising gratitude.

With a deep sigh, L stood idly behind Alenka, not liking how uncomfortable the situation had left him. He wondered about her sanity sometimes.

L waited for his fellow orphans too finish their exclamations of awe, fright at the situation, and of her brave act. Alenka tried to downplay her actions, but in the end lifted both arms and flexed as a body builder would. The kids laughed at her antics.

When the nannies began ushering them back in the direction of Wammy's House, L grabbed Alenka by her elbows from behind and pulled her towards the back of the crowd.

"Haah? What are you doing, L?"

The young detective released the blonde once her attention was on him and began nibbling on his thumb nail, a disapproving look upon his face. "Stop that. There's no need to be so reckless."

She seemed to sober up. "_Ah_, I know, I know." She looked at L with a tiny smile that made his expression soften. "But I think those old hookers would be proud of me, no?"

She was referring to the rough-and-tumble, Russian prostitutes that raised her until the age of eight (before a social worker happened upon her). L had no doubt that she had acted with them in mind.

"I'm certain they will be prouder yet once you marry the world's greatest detective." L blinked up at the clouds before looking back to Alenka, who giggled at him.

"You are too _cocky_, L!" There was a sudden bounce in her step. "Ask me again in ten years."

"I was planning on asking again tomorrow…" He had made a reference to them getting married more times than anyone could count since the year the two had met.

She laughed earnestly at his words, only stopping when her large-framed glasses nearly fell from her face.

L shrugged, sliding his hands into his pockets, unaffected by her laughter. "The wife of L should possess both intelligence and toughness. I won't bother unless it's you."

"_Oh_, you…" The blonde shook her head.

"_Yes_, me…" The adolescent genius replied airily.

Alenka tried and failed to prevent a smirk. The two twelve-year olds spent the rest of the walk back in comfortable silence.

* * *

/**January of 1993**/

It was the morning the world's top detective would set out with Watari to see firsthand what was beyond England. Still overcast, bone-chillingly cold, and snow piled from the night before, final goodbyes were being said.

L produced a stuffed animal (over a foot high) from behind his back and held it out to Alenka, who was sitting at the old piano in the play room.

"Ah, something black and white…" she regarded the blurry object in her hands with a pained expression. "What is it, L?" she asked softly, closing her eyes and rubbing the lids gingerly.

"It's something that will never let you forget about me while I'm gone." He slumped forward slightly, eyelids lowered in a resigned manner as he bit his nails.

Her eyesight was declining faster than the doctors had predicted. But L supposed she wouldn't have to see the stuffed animal for it to have the same effect.

"It's a panda bear." He elaborated. L watched the curl of Alenka's lips, gradually revealing small teeth, and how her pale lashes silently patted her speckled cheeks with a slow blink. Her arms wrapped around the bear snugly in time with these actions.

When L had first compared Alenka to a giraffe, she immediately compared him to "_that Chinese bear with the eyes_".

"I wish I could find a cute giraffe for you, L," she replied quietly. "I don't want you to forget me, either."

L smiled at how she walked right into his trap. "I know a rather simple way of preventing that." He reached out and grabbed her wrist in the usual way he would handle objects and used his other two digits to grab her index finger. He lifted her wrist up to his face and pushed her pointer finger into his right cheek. "A kiss right here."

The freckled blonde closed her eyes, shaking her head with an expression that told L he would have gotten a few words on any other occasion. "You _sneak_… I have a better way." She stood and reached up to cup his other cheek.

For an instant L had no idea what her next move would be until she'd gotten closer than she'd _ever_ been before. His eyes widened similarly to when they first met and suddenly his body forgot how to move.

She pressed her lips softly against his—he inhaled sharply, breath catching in his throat—and she stepped back with a smile.

"There you go." When Alenka pulled her hands away from L's face, he almost fell forward, causing her to grab his shoulders in surprise. She snickered softly at the flustered detective. Alenka couldn't see his face too well, but could clearly hear him trying to right his breathing.

L momentarily stood straight, just three inches taller than her at their age. He opened his mouth, wanting to say "_you're trying to kill me_" but instead breathed out "Impressive..." with his owlish gaze concentrated on her Cheshire grin.

* * *

/**February of 1996**/

She was kissing him again. And it was _different_.

L didn't know what to do, pinned down on the couch of his hotel room. How had this happened? She was unnaturally strong for a short, blind girl.

The last thing he remembered was her saying _"L, I love your voice. It's so sexy now"_ And grinning the same grin she'd worn when he saw her last, three years ago.

The compliment had left him dumbstruck; he'd almost dropped his cup of tea.

Of course the drink hadn't made it to the safety of the table before he was manhandled.

L's mouth had fallen open in shock the moment her lips had moved from his. Alenka was having her way with him, one hand in his hair, moving her mouth to trail kisses down his jaw line. The detective's eyes were perfect circles.

L's hands hovered hesitantly over her shoulders. When she reached his neck, his shoulders shrugged involuntarily and he stuttered meekly "_Ah_-Al-_Alenka_."

The blonde exhaled near his ear, causing him to shudder. She then sat up. "Yah, yah."

L watched her, his heart rate returning back to normal despite still being straddled. Alenka was chewing on her bottom lip, looking pensive even with her eyes closed.

"You know, I started taking your words seriously after you left…" She sighed again and slid off the teen detective, pushing herself to the far corner of the sofa.

It was a loveseat, so she didn't get far. L stood slowly and resituated himself back into his standard position, facing her. "I'm glad to hear that…" he replied softly and leaned forward until his knees were digging into his chest. Reaching forward, he poked her round cheek. "Please, there's no need for you to be so serious."

She pouted, turning towards him. "Your body language was _far_ from glad."

"Well… you scared me." L answered honestly. He then pushed himself down onto his knees, fists curled into the seat's cushions as he studied her face from inches away. "I thought you were going to eat me." He joked in an overly serious voice, his tone lowering.

It was enough to get a smile out of Alenka; she bit her lip again, trying to stop it. "You better stop talking to me like that before I decide to actually do it."

L blinked, seemingly unfazed by her suggestive threat. "I'll let you eventually…" he then puckered his lips and leaned into her cheek, actually pushing her against the arm of the loveseat with his awkwardly innocent kiss.

Alenka laughed in good nature, deciding that L definitely needed basic kissing lessons.

* * *

**A/N **

**Basic character information on Alenka Orlov**

**B-day: **September 2nd, 1979 - November 10th, 1996**  
Age: **17  
**Height**: 5'  
**Weight**: 130 lbs  
**Appearance (at 17)**: short blonde hair, heavily freckled, blue eyes (before hereditary blindness sets in)  
**Personality**: Mild/easy going, quirky, "eye for an eye mentality".

**Backstory**: Cliche baby dropped off at a stranger's doorstep in Russia; the stranger was a drunk who took the basket to a whorehouse where the brothel ladies then raised her (constantly giving her bowl cuts and dressing her in overalls to keep creepy men away). Watched the piano man and played music with him; became a gifted piano player *thumbs up* then a social worker found her and took her to England. *double thumbs up*


	9. Believe It

**Chapter 9: **In which L tries to break Light's resolve.

Probably ooc-ness in this chapter (I feel weird about it), but you know, trying to work around circumstances...

_Notes on Elena at the end_.

/

* * *

/**October 1****st****, 2004**/

At 7 'o' clock in the morning, Light's eyes are bloodshot, but he remains glued to his computer, fingers moving and eyes scanning persistently. It's almost as if he's on to something.

My fingers thrum against my knees as I eye Misa Amane's tossing form in bed. I've noticed that she's one to wake with the sun, more so disdainfully from light sleeping patterns than by habit.

At one point she had requested blackout curtains. I suggested sunglasses.

Hmmm…

Amane's sleeping patterns aside, I could go for some breakfast…

"Fruit-filled Okonomiyaki… with whipped cream and chocolate sauce." I mumble to myself.

"That's… different." Light glances my way with a tiny smile and one eyebrow arched, having heard my desired variation on the traditionally meat and vegetable-covered griddle cakes. "I'd try it with you, though." He then leans back, raising his arms high above his head to stretch and yawn.

"You've been at it for nearly twelve hours, Yagami-kun. Feel free to take a break whenever."

Sighing as he swivels his seat side-to-side, Light finally agrees. "Yeah, I think I will." He seems satisfied with something.

We shuffle across the room, towards the stairs. Yagami senior and Matsuda are still sprawled over the sofas. Mogi and Aizawa have yet to return.

Light yawns wildly, excusing himself as we climb the staircase. "Just an hour or two and I'll be good to go." His cell phone suddenly vibrates in his pocket. We both halt. "Early…" he reaches into his pants and produces the phone, flipping it open and pressing a button.

From two steps below, I watch the fist that clenches and head that drops. He goes to pocket the device when I intervene by catching his elbow.

My eyebrows lower as I demand in an authoritative tone: "What does it say?" Even if I already know what it will read, Light knows he's not allowed to pass anything by me.

The teen reaches back and drops the phone into my outstretched hand without a word and continues walking, his posture stiff.

_L do you know_

_Gods of death_

_Love apples?_

I hum thoughtfully for show and snap the phone shut. When we get to the landing of our hallway I tug on the chain to stop Light. As he turns around I'm almost shocked to see not an uptight glare, but a genuinely anxious expression.

"Light-kun…" I hold his cellphone by the tips of my fingers. "I assure you this text is not a hoax on my or Watari's part and _will_ be investigated thoroughly." I make sure to put a convincingly determined look on my face. A supposed leak in our investigation _would_ be quite serious.

"I know, Ryuzaki… it's _Kira_…" Light raises both hands, clenching and unclenching his fists, examining his palms as if he's never laid eyes on them before. "It's… it's like I said before… I… may have been unconsciously judging criminals… and then there's _your_ theory, Ryuzaki, about Kira's power being transferred…"

I pout my lips slightly in thought. "Go on…"

"Kira is out there somewhere, taunting me… or maybe trying to… _recruit_ me. Why else would the message that Kira _made_ for L be sent to me?"

I manage to keep my smile in check, but my lower eyelids rise a tad.

Now I know he's not thinking straight. The "new" Kira wouldn't send him such a message, let alone have knowledge of it. Not unless the power of Kira entails psychic abilities that allow memories to be transferred from person to person. Even that seems a bit far-fetched.

It also seems I'm getting a bit too far into my own lie… oh well, what's needs to be done… needs to be done.

Instead I reply gravely, "Of course you realize if this message is from Kira that it only incriminates you more…" and return his phone to him.

He nods in response, bangs covering his eyes.

I decide to voice my deceptive thoughts. "Yagami-kun, you should know that I don't believe this to be the work of Kira… if it were, then he would absolutely have to have had a mole among us… Kira's message to me was not made public." I transfer my weight to my left leg, hands returning to my warm pockets. "This will be looked into… like the previous mysterious texts you've been getting, but…"

"But what?"

My shoulders raise a tad as I look behind me, then I lean to the side slightly to look beyond Light's rigid form. "With everything you've been seeing… I'm convinced there's something here with us…. Watching us. Worst case scenario, it's Kira's… 'shinigami'," I raise my head to inspect the closest security camera. "But… what if it's something else… unexplainable?"

Light reveals his unpleasant realization with a sigh. "Ryuzaki, I _really_ don't want to talk about ghosts right now…" but his voice is less heated than it usually is when this topic comes up. "It's one thing to have a dead girl constantly accusing you of being Kira, but a ghost that texts?" He trudges away with a sigh, forcing me to follow.

I'm tempted to say "_why not?"_ but think better of it.

As we round a corner, Light abruptly stops, causing me to nearly jam my nose into the back of his head. "Yagami-kun…" As my gaze trails over his shoulder, I spot Elena peeking back at us from behind the corner of a wall at the very end of the hallway. I lean sideways with one knee bent, in a sort of side-lunge position, hands still pocketed as I look up at his face. "Leave something downstairs?"

I repeat his name in a questioning manner.

"It's nothing… c'mon." We make it to the room seconds later, and I see, trailing behind him, that Elena has already ghosted off.

As Light opens the door, he looks over his shoulder and I catch his gaze; he looks away immediately.

Finally, the college student collapses onto his side of the bed, forcing me to crawl in from the foot of the mattress. I scoot backwards until I'm touching the headboard and reach for the drawers to my right.

Top drawer is empty…

I lean closer.

Middle drawer is empty… Bottom drawer is…

I frown at what isn't anything food related. "Sparkling apple-flavored water…" and it isn't even cold.

"Ryuzaki…"

I look at Light, my lips still poking out from disappointment.

He's turned to my side, though most of his face is buried in a pillow, so I can only see one tired-looking eye and part of his mouth. "I just wanna know… really, truthfully, about… your daughter…"

I see… It's time to put a cap on Light's disbelief… I can't just show my final card, though… I'll have to backtrack somewhat…

"Light-kun is asking me to bring up rather painful memories…" He lifts his head, ready to interject, but I continue. "However, I think we could both benefit if I… _talked_ a little…"

I make sure to hold his gaze as I explain the high-risk pregnancy that occurred; how I almost lost my daughter along with her mother… and while telling him these things, I remember other parts of that day…

Beyond's mysterious appearance at the hospital… and equally mysterious words to me… I had broken his nose… perhaps bruised a rib as well…

I hadn't been able to see my daughter that night, having been escorted out by security.

Leaving the details of my late successor out of the explanation, I do confess to my state of being after becoming a father. I could hardly have been called a father at that time, though; merely a functioning robot programmed to feed, bathe, and clothe the infant around the clock.

No affection… no happiness…

Light's expression doesn't seem to vary much from somber interest even as I tell him of my selfish actions, leaving my daughter in the care of "relatives" after only three months, because solving cases was my only escape from guilt.

"I returned a year or so later… she didn't know who I was, of course." Light has yet to interrupt my monologue. He's too busy drinking in every word, as if searching for a lie. "I tried to be the best father I could after that, balancing my duty to her and my duty as L."

This had involved multiple visits to Wammy's house every year (usually major holidays, whether personally celebrated or not), and several phone calls a week, even before she could hold a proper conversation; it was so she would remember my voice.

"I really didn't deserve her love," I continue, absentmindedly sipping the flat, apple-flavored water. "But children have this innate… sense of forgiveness that we adults do not…" I never cease to wonder why she doesn't resent me…

At any rate, it's time to move to the conclusion…

"But I took things for granted…" With half-lidded eyes, I place the water bottle on the bed, my hand limply clasped around it. The words that are about to leave my lips are a lie woven about Elena, but on the inside... I draw on the guilt I still feel… for her mother. "And before I knew it, she was gone… and it was my fault…"

Commencing into my story, I tell Light of a fateful Halloween night, children trick-or-treating, and of a man that was wanted on _many_ rape and murder charges… How I hadn't been there to keep a watchful eye over my daughter in the crowded, public area. It had been simple to lure her away, according to what I was (supposedly) told.

As these lies leave my mouth, for a moment, I find myself getting caught up in them, and I feel my core start to boil at the thought of what I would do to such a man…

A loud crack startles me out of these thoughts, and I see that the plastic bottle in my clenched hand is suddenly quite disfigured…

Light's eyebrows are risen.

I suppose I just inadvertently helped my cause…

Inhaling and exhaling deeply, I look over my shoulder. "Come, there is something I should show you." I throw my legs over the edge of the bed, Light grunting as he crawls out from my side as well.

I lead him over to the walk-in closet, turning on the light. The left side is stacked with folded jeans and white shirts, one duffle bag, and a few metal brief cases. On the right side hang several outfits, classy, but still more stylish than I care for, as well as socks and underwear shelved, with shoes lining the wall.

I turn back to the left side, trying to remember where I put what I'm looking for.

"Yagami-kun, please check the contents of my duffle bag," I request while grabbing a brief case. I could have put the item anywhere; it's been weeks. "And don't worry, there's nothing in there that will divulge aspects of L's identity."

"Alright…" he unzips the travel bag next to me as I riffle through personal documents that don't pertain to the Kira case, but still have notable importance.

Watari's Banoffee Pie recipe… several fake I.D.s… my personal notes on the Los Angeles B.B. Murder case… among other things.

"Buruuru…? Gorirrasu?" Light pronounces carefully before I hear the clatter of jewel cases as he pushes some articles of clothing aside. "Is this what you listen to, Ryuzaki?" He holds up the album _Modern Life is Rubbish_, causing me to frown.

"No," I answer quickly, pushing his hand down so he drops the case back into the bag. "It's just nostalgic noise." And that is the truth.

Damon Albarn's usually unintelligible singing voice was the bane of my existence growing up (to put it dramatically), but oddly enough, I find it to be an adequate filler for the silence left by those who are no longer in my life.

Yes... Blur: what I might romanticize to be the soundtrack of my adolescent and teenage years… For that sake I buy every album having to do with Albarn. They sit untouched until my loneliness gets the best of me.

But Light continues to inspect a Blur case; _Think Tank_. "Ryuzaki, do you mind me asking what it is we're looking for?"

"I've found it." In another brief case, I produce a document that I'd had Watari forge the moment I made my decision to have Elena fly to Japan. "Yagami-kun… I've been telling myself for weeks that it'd be more probable that you were crazy instead of being… haunted by my daughter." I put on a slightly disturbed expression for better believability.

I scan over the paper silently, before handing it to the teen. "But I should have known better… we're dealing with individuals that can end a person's life just by _willing_ it…" I bring a thumb to my lips, rubbing softly. "And these people speak of shinigami... None of this is natural… it's _supernatural_… so why would it be odd for a ghost to appear?"

I can see Light's demeanor changing… From shock to suspicion… to pale, blank-faced realization…

_Certified Copy of an Entry of Death_

_Date and Place of Death: 2002, October 31__st __London, England_

_Name and Surname: Elena Orlov_

_Sex: F_

_Age: 5_

_Cause of Death: Asphyxiation_

So on and so forth…

I rest my misleadingly sad gaze on the paper in his hands. "It's quite real…" I murmur in response to his scrutiny; his fingers rub at a corner of the page and he even holds it up to the light.

It would have been rather novice not to have the paper humidity treated, along with other aging techniques. The paper itself is not damaged in any way, but appears to have been sitting around, shuffled about, what have you, for over a year.

"Tell me, Light Yagami," I nearly whisper. "Why are you seeing my little girl? Why does she think you're Kira..?" My gaze narrows as his eyes close and arms lower to his sides.

He takes a noticeable gulp, expression becoming pained.

I lean forward. "It's because you _are_ Kira… isn't it?" But I don't realize how close I am—close enough to whisper in his ear—until his eyes snap open and his turns to me with a wild expression.

"_Stop_ it!"

My eyes widen as the teen shoves me into the racks; the hard edges stab into my back painfully and the CD cases from the precariously-placed duffle bag clatter to the floor.

His fists clench as he opens his mouth—my expression darkens.

The lights suddenly flicker, muffled electrical noises accompanying the anomaly.

We both pause, our heads tilting back in unison. Light gapes at the ceiling bulb, and I find myself blinking in amazement at such a beneficial coincidence.

The brunet's gaze drops to the floor and he lets out a strange, incoherent noise; he's at a loss for words…

Light then shakes his head in a twitchy manner, eyes closing again. Swiftly, he exits the closet, but soon turns to me again, both hands on his head. "Ryuzaki—"

Movement from the ceiling catches my attention while Light's eyes are still closed—a tile is lifted up silently—something bright is quickly thrown out—the tile is then placed just as quickly and silently back into place as a delicate plopping noise stops whatever Light is about to say.

I have to clench my teeth harder than ever before to keep from smirking. My left eye twitches as a result. If I look sullen then it's all for the better.

Light turns around slowly… His gaze falls to the bed… where a large, red apple lays alone on his side of the mattress.

A shaky breath escapes his parted lips. His pupils are contracted. Light suddenly looks up, taking a sweeping gaze of our room's entire ceiling.

Not a squeak, bump, or rustle can be heard as we both hold our breath.

The cameras in this room won't catch the ceiling from their angles, either…

I use this moment to take on a scared demeanor, raising my shoulders and opening my eyes wider. "Yagami-kun…" I whisper, eyeing the fruit that Elena had so wonderfully provided.

Hands still entangled in his hair, Light suddenly seems… completely and utterly drained. He takes two steps back, and when his legs come in contact with the mattress, he falls awkwardly into a sitting position. "It…" his mouth hangs open, and I wait for him to continue.

"... I think Light-kun and I should move to a different room…" I begin nibbling on my thumb, regarding our surroundings with an uncomfortable look as I slump more than usual.

"No…" Light replies weakly. He's bracing his elbows on his knees. "It doesn't matter what I do... or who it is… I have… I _have_ to prove myself."

My lips part slightly in disbelief.

... Light Yagami…

He's wringing his hands; they're shaking. His smile quivers. Brown, exhausted eyes make contact with mine and I see something that strikes me to the core.

Behind those glassy eyes I see not anger, fear, or desperation, but… _hope?_ And… determination…

Is this _real..?_

...

/**8:13 AM**/

As Light sleeps (almost completely covered), I revolve the apple in my fingertips by its stem, the light catching its shiny contours.

"I suppose it's only a matter of time…" I murmur before taking a bite of the Red Delicious. Juice dribbles down my chin and I wipe it away in a distracted manner, blinking at the morning sun shining into the room. "For what, I'm almost unsure of..."

* * *

/

**A/N on Elena's basic info**, to set L's lie straight:

**True Name**: Eleanor Lawliet  
**DoB**: November 10th, 1996  
**Age**: 7  
**Height**: 4'  
**Weight**: 60 lbs  
**Appearance**: Shoulder-length, black, layered hair, blue eyes, dimples.  
**Personality**: Sensitive, quirky, inquisitive, loving.  
**Nicknames**: Elena (common) Ella, wolf (by L), Elle, Lower-case L (by Mello)

Anywaaay, this chapter was supposed to include the beginning of the Yotsuba arc, hence the date and time. Next chapter tho.

ALSO, **L's music "tastes"**: To be honest, I can picture L listening to stuff like Blur and Gorillaz (I only know 4 British bands that are good/recent and almost unheard of in the US) but sometimes I can't really picture L being into music in general xD Blur debuted in like 1991 and lead singer Damon Albarn and drummer Jamie Hewlett created the Gorillaz (debuted in 2001-ish). But I pictured Blur being the type of thing that the kids at the orphanage really liked and so L would be subjected to it a lot, maybe even have some fond memories defined by it (Alenka is a Blur fan, yesh *nods*), but personally not care for them all that much.

UPDATE: So I just found out about "L: The Wammy's House" and "L: One Day" that are super short manga chapters that came out alongside L Change The World (movie), that are about his past and I guess L is a music person since he goes to concerts xD;;


	10. Separation, Association

**Chapter 10**: In which old faces are revisited.

Many thanks to all the faves/followers :)

/

* * *

Elena had grown tired quickly laying in the ceiling above L and Light's bed. She couldn't move until they were gone or the suspect fell asleep…

She sighed, frowning at the uncomfortable state she was in. Her mask was making her feel hot as well, but she couldn't remove it in the dusty crevice.

Finally, after twenty minutes or so, Watari's voice sounded in her ear: "Alright, Elena. It's time to come back."

The seven-year old touched a finger to the audio device in her ear and began crawling back the way she came. Luckily, she was wearing jeans and a T-shirt (as well as gloves) instead of the same button-down dress and scarf she'd worn almost every day (even just an hour before) for the sake of being a ghost.

Eventually Elena reached an open area that she could poke her head down into. "Watari?" there was a view of the small room where he was usually stationed.

"Coming, dear." His voice sounded from both nearby and in her ear.

Elena smiled as the elderly man appeared with a ladder to help her down.

"Very good work." He praised the small child gently.

"Can I take a nap?" She asked as Watari hoisted her from the top steps of the ladder and onto the floor.

"First thing's first, let's get you cleaned up." Watari handed the child a towel as she removed her mask and gloves.

Elena was quite disheveled, covered from head to toe in dust. The image was reminiscent of when Watari had brought L into his orphanage when he was the same age, the only exception being that Elena's clothes were much more fitted than what her father had been swimming in.

Quillish Wammy chuckled at the memory while leading Elena to her awaiting change of clothes.

Sometime later, before noon, Elena awoke again feeling refreshed, and decided to peek in on her father's caretaker.

Watari was on the other side of the room, facing away from her as he prepared tea and cake.

She wandered up to his station and stood before the several monitors that Watari viewed regularly. There were two with her father and Light Yagami; both of them were back in the main investigation room.

Elena laughed at what she saw, causing Quillish Wammy to start at the sudden noise; he hadn't heard her enter the room.

"Just don't touch anything, Elena."

"I won't." She grinned at the screens.

L was sitting backwards in a computer chair, still in his usual position. He was pushing against the desk to spin himself 180 degrees in one direction, then catching the desk again before pulling himself back to spin in the opposite direction. The handcuffs were preventing him from completing full circles.

"_Ryuzaki…" _Light suddenly spoke up._ "I know you're not into this, but come over here for a second."_

L wheeled over to the teen and practically perched himself on top of the arms of both their chairs so he could look with Light (above him instead of next to him).

Elena wondered how he was keeping his balance so well…

"—_and look at this sudden growth."_ Light pointed to the screen. _"Take a look at this. Look at the change here…"_

"_Y-Yagami-kun…"_ L seemed pleasantly surprised.

"_How about now? You ready to get to work?"_ Light smiled up at the detective leaning on his shoulder.

Elena blinked, tilting her head to the side in curiosity. What had happened?

She seated herself in Watari's chair and began kicking her legs in anticipation.

* * *

/**11:21 AM**/

With one foot planted firmly on the arm of Light's chair, the other on my seat, and one hand grasping the teen's shoulder, I prod at my bottom lip in thought.

Light Yagami has gathered some _very_ interesting information, indeed…

"If this _is_ connected to Kira, then punishing criminals may not be the true goal of this Kira…" I lower my hand, inspecting business growth charts and specific death dates as Light agrees that judging criminals may be camouflage for more monetarily-based goals.

…Kira going corporate? Sounds foolish… but…

I remind Light of a previous hypothesis of his; that if Kira were an adult, they would probably use such power for their own benefit… Though it would most likely then mean that this Kira is separate from the first and second Kiras that existed together… Nevertheless… "Very impressive research, Yagami-kun."

Light informs me that by using new computer technology, he was able to notice three suspicious heart attacks… consequently researched the companies each man belonged to, and saw that a specific company, Yotsuba, had its stock rise considerably… So, of course he searched further into deaths related to the business world, and found many more that would benefit this Yotsuba company…

But not all were by heart attack… some accidental, some by disease…

Light turns to me. "What do you think? I have to conclude that Kira is supporting Yotsuba."

And I have to agree with that notion… "But if that's the case…"

We voice the same deduction simultaneously: "Kira can kill in other ways than heart attacks!"

…

Finally, after discussing our findings more with Matsuda and Aizawa, Chief Yagami and Mogi return, with both important and sobering news…

Having spoken with the director of the NPA, Yagami senior has learned that Kira is _bribing_ politicians… and so connects it with our Yotsuba discovery (the money source).

But with politicians under Kira's thumb, this can only lead to bad news for the police…

"I've talked it over with Mogi and he seems determined to stay here," Soichiro Yagami tells the others in a gruff, foreboding tone. "Aizawa, Matsuda. If you want to continue going after Kira… you need to join Mogi and me… and resign from the NPA!"

This exclamation causes even myself to turn around in shock, a hand hovering over a bowl of cherries.

I then groan quietly, turning back around as the other men converse amongst themselves over their dilemma.

This _is_ something I foresaw, but was hoping to avoid…

Yes, they will lose their jobs if they continue to work with L… a dilemma indeed…

Swirling the fruit around with one finger, I decide to speak up. "I think you should all go back to the police…" I start softly, choosing my words wisely for optimum effect. "I was all alone in the beginning. Almost every officer turned their backs to me when the threat of losing their lives became reality…"

The men behind me remain silent whilst Light, standing beside me, frowns at my somber tone.

"With the support you guys gave me until now, I'll be able to continue this case on my own… and," I continue, leaning a bit further into my knees. "I swear to return and see you guys one day with Kira's head."

Now it is time to see what their decisions will be…

Light quickly points out that as long as we're chained together, then I won't be alone.

Yes, of course…

I raise two cherries attached by the stem into my mouth, working them around with my tongue to make a knot.

Chief Yagami speaks his convictions on behalf of the others, whilst Matsuda unwittingly celebrates over his backup job as Amane's manager, and Aizawa… he remains silent until:

"But chief… Frankly, if we quit the force, then we're unemployed…"

Yes, it is Aizawa who suffers the most over this. I can understand why. He has not only a wife, but two small children… without the resources available to myself…

This man is hurting to do the right thing.

I can hear it in his voice when he tries to bargain with me, see it in the way he squeezes his eyes shut tightly, the clenching of his jaw, and shaking of his fist.

"It's not fair, _damn_ it… I want to keep going too… I've come this far, prepared to die at any time…" His voice is wavering. "And… if I quit now, how will I ever be able to face Ukita..?"

I abandon the bowl of cherries and reach for my room temperature coffee when he suddenly exclaims "Damn it! Why the hell can't a detective on the police force go after a criminal?!" causing me to turn in alarm.

Watari's voice then sounds from my computer with a hesitant waver. _"Ryuzaki…"_

My brow furrows slightly in concern. "What is it, Watari?"

"_In the beginning you had me make preparations so that everyone on the task force and their families would be financially secure no matter what happened, including if they were fired from the police force."_

My eyelids fall to half-shade before I blink slowly at Watari's bad timing for sympathy.

"_Why are you not mentioning that?"_ he inquires as a few collective gasps sound from behind me.

"Who asked you, Watari?" I question back lightly, though I trust he can sense my annoyance.

"_Oh… sorry, I couldn't bear to listen anymore…"_

Mm…

Matsuda rejoices at the news, but Aizawa…. not so much…

"Ryuzaki…" he starts in cold manner. "You were watching to see whether I'd quite the force or not, _weren't_ you?"

And now we shall see…

Yagami senior attempts to sooth the situation with "Of course not, Aizawa. Ryuzaki just doesn't like to reveal stuff like that."

Matsuda decides to add "_Yeah_, you know how he can be weird like that."

I regard my coffee with a thoughtful pout. "No," I answer honestly. "I was testing him. I wanted to see which he'd choose."

After a tense moment of silence, the previously undecided detective makes his decision, claiming adamantly that he is returning to the police force, despite the others' pleas.

When Aizawa also states that he doesn't care for me or my methods, I reply gently "Though I like people like you…" without turning around to look at him.

His footsteps halt, and after a moment… "I also hate how you say corny stuff like that! I'm leaving!"

"Take care." I keep my eyes trained on Amane's socializing form as the sliding door hisses open and shuts behind me.

A small frown tugs at my lips.

...

Two days later, with Light's father noticing a weekend trend in Yotsuba killings and us having the tedious task of sifting through 300,000 names worth of Yotsuba employees… I have an idea.

"Watari."

"_Yes?"_

"Can you call Wedy and Aiber?"

"_Huh? I know their current locations, but do you plan to show your face to them?"_

"We already have a level of trust between us." I explain, thumbing my bottom lip gingerly at the thought of revealing myself as L yet again. "And with a big case like Yotsuba, it would be complicated to have to contact them through you. I wouldn't be able to explain my thoughts well."

"_I understand. I'll get right on it."_

_..._

And so, after another four days, on October the seventh, Aiber and Wedy enter our ranks.

"Greetings… I am L. Though, for now, please call me Ryuzaki." I introduce myself, hands snug in my pockets as I watch the two Americans watching me.

It's a tad difficult to discern what's going through Wedy's mind with the large sunglasses she dons, but I can see the surprise that Aiber, or rather, mister Thierry Morrello, tries to hide.

Yes, I do know what he's thinking… I only hope he's smart enough not to open his mouth…

After the brief introduction to Light and myself, I turn towards the direction of the main investigation room. "Come, the others await."

And so I shuffle forward, Light flanked at my right, Wedy to his, as Aiber sidles up to my left, chuckling softly.

He proceeds to speak low in English to me as we walk. "Last time I saw you, you had a cute blonde on your arm… _pregnant_, if I remember correctly."

"Mm… yes, well, she and the child have since passed," I mumble back in an attempt not to be heard, casting him a dark look. "So I'd appreciate it if you would leave this subject and never bring it up again."

He looks ahead with a mildly shocked expression, before nodding once. "Sorry to hear that… but sure."

Good…

As we enter the investigation room, Aiber and Wedy strutting ahead of Light and me, I briefly recall the time in which the conman had been referring to…

* * *

/**June of 1996**/

"L!" Alenka sat up from her laying position and faced the direction he was in, across the room. "Stop groaning and just say what's wrong, my _God!_"

In the last five minutes L had started at soft grunts, leading to tired groans, progressing to childishly louder groans. If he had been any other person, Alenka would have told him to _shut the hell up_.

L grumbled some more, biting his nails. "I'm… stuck." He finally answered, just loud enough for Alenka to hear.

The blonde teen tilted her head sideways in confusion. Alenka then slid silently from the master bed, wearing only a plain, cotton night gown, and treaded lightly to L's side through the path she had memorized. Her fingers slid around the back of L's favorite leather chair and across his slumped shoulders. "What are you stuck on?" He didn't feel _physically_ stuck to anything.

"I've just received my final response from the FBI saying they don't want to assist me in getting close to the suspect." His tone then lowered. "_Apparently_ it's below them… a waste of their resources." They had told him to request that kind of aid from an undercover cop.

Alenka suggested this very thing a moment later, in which L grumbled something back about not wanting to. He wanted the best.

Left hand resting softly on his right shoulder, she shifted her weight from one side to the other. "Well… use a professional criminal?"

L's thumb lowered from his mouth slowly as he looked up at the soon-to-be mother of his child and blinked. "That's… an excellent idea." He then continued to nibble on his thumb. "Had you let me finish sulking, I would have thought of it immediately."

Alenka snorted as she played with the detective's unruly tresses. "You need a haircut." She stated out of the blue, grabbing his hair as if to make a pony tail (a small one).

L shrugged in response. He had more important things on his mind at that moment; exciting things. Not so legal, but still something he was looking forward to…

…

Just a week after that conversation, in a small American city known for its beaches, a tall, handsome, blond man was strolling through a quaint downtown avenue.

His eyes flickered to the blue sky every now and then, a relaxed smirk on his face; it was a nice day.

Especially after scoring a million in cold, hard cash…

Walking his way was a short girl, noticeably younger than him—the twenty six year-old—blind and using a cane. She seemed to be used to her condition though, as she walked at a reasonable pace, moving the stick side to side in front of her as she went.

Suddenly, from what seemed like out of nowhere, a black German shepherd raced across the small, desolate street, towards the female.

The older male's eyes widened. She was about to be attacked right in front of him.

He tensed, about to run forward when the dog grabbed her cane and shook it hard, growling angrily.

She shrieked, stumbling backwards and almost falling as the animal ripped her walking stick out of grasp and took off with it, disappearing around a corner.

He made it to her seconds later. "You okay?"

She was quite shaken, and holding onto a telephone pole as she attempted to regain her composer. "Ah—erm—yes, thank you…"

He noted her Russian accent right away. It wasn't too thick, but very much there. She was a cute kid, he decided. Freckled and blonde… or was she redheaded? Strawberry blonde, that was the in-between, wasn't it?

"That was pretty scary. You need any help?" he smiled charmingly despite knowing she couldn't see him.

She stepped away from the telephone pole, her eyes opening as she blinked at his shoes. "Yes, actually… do you mind walking me to the Palm Frond? It's a small café I'm meeting some friends at…" She smiled sheepishly. "I know it's very close."

Indeed it was, only a block from the direction he had come from.

The man agreed to walk her there, offering her his arm in a gentlemanly manner. They conversed lightly as they traveled the block.

"My name's Anna, what's your name?" She was smiling.

He glanced down at her with an arched eyebrow, but smirked nonetheless as he replied "Just call me Aiber."

"Oh, what a cool name!"

Aiber chuckled in response, opening the door to their destination. He lead Anna to the first booth in sight while noticing the state of the café; empty… not even the store owner was present… and the blinds were drawn.

Odd…

There were several loud clicks and he froze, cursing at the all too familiar sound. Hands rising slowly, he turned to be met by four casually dressed detectives with their guns pointed at him.

Dirty cops that L had blackmailed to corner Aiber without arresting him.

"Shit…"

The girl, "Anna", laughed lightly as she turned around in the booth seat. "Yah, I almost feel bad for you."

Aiber's brown furrowed at her tone. "Damn… it was you?" he smiled dryly, his heart rate quickening. "Never trust a cute blonde… should've known…" Especially after such a large score… But he had checked numerous times to see if he was being followed that day. Hell, he wasn't even in the same country as where the deal had gone down the previous night.

The four detectives remained silent as she replied seriously: "Mister Aiber, have you ever heard of the detective called L?"

"…Yeah. He's the best there is, from what I've heard. But nobody knows him."

"Mhm. I'll get straight to it then… L needs your help, and if you don't _agree_ to help, you'll be arrested right here and now."

One of the detectives lowered their pistol to brandish a pair of handcuffs. "What's it gonna be, conman?"

"It didn't take L long to find you." Alenka added, leaning her head into the palm of her hand.

Aiber's eyelids slid shut as he clenched his jaw. "And how do I know this is real?"

"Oh, right." Alenka slid out of the booth and patted down her jean jacket, finally producing a cell phone with an antenna.

With his hands still up, Aiber turned slightly to look at her. It was then he noticed her baby bump…

The phone suddenly beeped, and after feeling across the number pad a few times with her thumb, she pushed the answer button and held the phone out to him.

Aiber glanced down at the phone and back to the cops. One nodded briefly, allowing him to slowly reach for the cellular device and hold it to his ear.

"Hello, Mr. Morello." A synthetic voice. "This is L."

Shit.

For a few minutes each individual stood silently as the world renowned detective explained his plan to the professional con artist, and how to keep in contact.

"And if you don't cooperate, I'll simply have to hunt you down again… But, next time I won't be so nice about it. Neither will your fellow inmates. Goodbye for now, Mr. Morello."

Aiber heard the blunt click of the line being closed and sighed heavily. He was sweating.

"Alright," Alenka sighed as well. "I guess I can go now. Well done everyone!" she clapped her hands once, and grabbing onto the booth, made her way around it and to the door.

The detectives, each eyeing Aiber coldly, exited through the back of the store at the same time.

"Hey!" Aiber called to Alenka as she leaned into the glass door. He knew she wouldn't give him a straight answer, but wanted to ask anyway: "Do you _work_ for L?"

She was obviously a teenager, and pregnant. Such an odd choice… but all the more convincing in being able to catch him off guard in the end…

She grinned a toothy grin, her nose scrunching up a bit in the process. "No, just someone that he contacted." She then slipped out of the café.

Aiber stood alone for a few moments, dumbstruck, before dashing out after her.

Down the street he spotted her standing with another young person. A boy, that was in possession of her walking stick and handing it back to her. How he had gotten a hold of it… seemed suspicious…

The conman watched the two interact, and was close enough to notice how odd the other teenager was.

Slumped forward, he was fairly tall—not as tall as Aiber—but was nearly stooped to her level as a result of his posture. Messy, dark hair, and big eyes with ridiculously-sized bags underneath. The kid was weird… _awkward_… ugly? Maybe not, but definitely _odd_.

Even so, Aiber watched as the girl calling herself Anna slipped her arms around his waist while leaning her face into his shoulder.

The boy's gaze lifted and fell on Aiber.

Straightening somewhat, the con's gaze narrowed as the two held a short lived staring contest. The vibes he was picking up from that guy…

A thought crossed Aiber's mind, but he immediately rejected it. That sloppy looking sixteen year-old couldn't be the world's greatest detective…

Just then, their ride came to pick them up.

So Thierry Morello turned on his heel and walked in the opposite direction as L and Alenka climbed into the back of Watari's car.

Neither of the two males would forget each other's faces.

* * *

/

**A/N:** Not sure if I wrote Aiber well enough, buuuut *shrugs* I'm a bit more motivated to write after getting past this chapter (I spent weeks watching Death Note instead of writing about it lmao). I'm going to have some creative fun after Yotsuba is dealt with. Might be a little sad though~

I usually re-read my stuff like 15 times before posting it, but I'm really not in the mood. Love my typos!

**I also made an L RP blog on tumblr**; I'm doing something that nobody seems to be doing... staying IN CHARACTER AT ALL TIMES, WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT 8DDD I'll post the link on my profile for any interested.


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